Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament 9780199489053, 019948905X, 9780199093854, 0199093857

Citation preview

Performing Representation

‘This complete guide to women’s presence and performance in India’s Parliament is a must read for anyone interested in gender and politics. Fascinating stories and critical analysis illuminate the multiple challenges women face in every dimension of their parliamentary politics/life.’ Niraja Gopal Jayal, Professor, Centre for the Study of Law and Governance, Jawaharlal Nehru University, India ‘India—the most populous democracy in the world—has just 64 women in the Lok Sabha (lower house of Parliament), ranking 149th worldwide in this regard. Why? This terrific new study by Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary provides fresh insights into issues of representation and representativeness, gender and power, and the role of women in parliament—both within India and more broadly. Drawing upon qualitative and quantitative evidence, this book provides an essential contribution towards the literature on women in politics.’ Pippa Norris, Professor, John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, US

Performing Representation Women Members in the Indian Parliament

Shirin M. Rai Carole Spary

1

1 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trademark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries. Published in India by Oxford University Press 2/11 Ground Floor, Ansari Road, Daryaganj, New Delhi 110 002, India © Oxford University Press 2019 The moral rights of the authors have been asserted. First Edition published in 2019 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by licence, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. ISBN-13 (print edition): 978-0-19-948905-3 ISBN-10 (print edition): 0-19-948905-X ISBN-13 (eBook): 978-0-19-909385-4 ISBN-10 (eBook): 0-19-909385-7

Typeset in Adobe Garamond Pro 10.5/12.5 by The Graphics Solution, New Delhi 110 092 Printed in India by Nutech Print Services India

Endorsement

Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary

Print publication date: 2019 Print ISBN-13: 9780199489053 Published to Oxford Scholarship Online: March 2019 DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.001.0001

(p.ii) Endorsement Shirin M. Rai Carole Spary

‘This complete guide to women’s presence and performance in India’s Parliament is a must read for anyone interested in gender and politics. Fascinating stories and critical analysis illuminate the multiple challenges women face in every dimension of their parliamentary politics/life.’ Niraja Gopal Jayal, Professor, Centre for the Study of Law and Governance, Jawaharlal Nehru University, India ‘India—the most populous democracy in the world—has just 64 women in the Lok Sabha (lower house of Parliament), ranking 149th worldwide in this regard. Why? This terrific new study by Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary provides fresh insights into issues of representation and representativeness, gender and power, and the role of women in parliament—both within India and more broadly. Drawing upon qualitative and quantitative evidence, this book provides an essential contribution towards the literature on women in politics.’ Pippa Norris, Professor, John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, US

Access brought to you by:

Page 1 of 1

PRINTED FROM OXFORD SCHOLARSHIP ONLINE (oxford.universitypressscholarship.com). (c) Copyright Oxford University Press, 2020. All Rights Reserved. An individual user may print out a PDF of a single chapter of a monograph in OSO for personal use.  Subscriber: OUP-Reference Gratis Access; date: 30 October 2020

Tables and Figures

Tables I.1 I.2

Turnout in Lok Sabha Elections: 1952–2004 Politics and Performance Framework

3.1

Success Rates of Candidates Contesting Seats in Lok Sabha Elections (1980–2014), by Selected Party Categories and Combined 89 Ratio of State to National Party Candidates in Lok Sabha Elections, by Sex 96 Sole-Woman and Multi-Women Candidate Contests in Three Lok Sabha Elections (2004–14) 100

3.2 3.3

4.1 4.2 4.3

4.4 4.5 4.6

Presence of SC-Reserved Women MPs in 15th Lok Sabha, by Party Lok Sabha Women MPs from North East since Independence Educational Qualifications of Lok Sabha MPs from 7th–12th and 14th–16th Lok Sabhas (Percentage of Total MPs) Self-Identified Occupational Backgrounds of Lok Sabha MPs from the 7th to 16th Lok Sabhas (Percentage) Women MPs Who Have Served Five or More Terms in the Lok Sabha Women MPs Who Have Served Four or More Terms in the Rajya Sabha

2 21

128 134

135 137 145 146

viii

Tables and Figures

4.7

Top 10 Current Women MPs Based on the Number of Twitter Followers 4A.1 Proportion of MPs across General and Reserved Seats in the 10th to 16th Lok Sabhas 5.1 5.2 5.3 5.4 5.5 5.6

6.1 6.2 6.3 6.4

7.1 7.2 7.3 7.4 7.5 9.1

Gender-Disaggregated Analysis of MP Participation in the14th Lok Sabha Gender-Disaggregated Analysis of MP Participation in the 15th Lok Sabha Top 10 Women MPs by Participation in Debates (14th Lok Sabha) Top 10 Women MPs by Participation in Debates (15th Lok Sabha) Top 10 Women MPs by Number of Questions Asked (14th Lok Sabha) Participation of Women and Men in Selected Parliamentary Debates Timetable of Events in the CEW’s Establishment Presence of Women MPs on Financial Committees and Selected DRSCs, 13th–16th Lok Sabhas Matters Considered by the CEW (13th–15th Lok Sabhas) Summary of ‘Analysis of Action Taken by Government’ by the CEW List of Elected Representatives Disqualified after Conviction by a Court of Law Women MPs: Criminal Records and Financial Assets Top 10 Highest Spending States and Union Territories (2015–16) Lowest Spending States and Union Territories (2015–16) MPLADS Individual High Spenders (2015–16) Women Incumbents Re-contesting and Re-elected: 14th to 15th Lok Sabha (2009) and 15th to 16th Lok Sabha (2014)

160 167

173 174 175 176 177 190 216 220 226 232

248 250 262 263 265

308

Tables and Figures

ix

Figures I.1 I.2

Parliament House, Taken from Raisina Road Women as a Percentage of Rajya Sabha MPs (1952–2016)

3 10

1.1 1.2 1.3 1.4

India Gate, New Delhi Bharatmata by Abanindranath Tagore Outer Corridor, Indian Parliament The Ladies’ Room in Lok Sabha

32 39 45 53

2.1

Women’s Groups Campaigning for the WRB, Delhi, December 2013

76

3.1a Women in Lok Sabha Elections 1957–2014 82 3.1b Women in Lok Sabha Elections 1957–2014 83 3.2 Women Candidates in Lok Sabha Elections as a Percentage of Total Candidates, by Party (INC and BJP), 1980–2014 93 3.3 Nomination of Women Candidates (Percentage of Total Party Candidates) by Selected Parties in Lok Sabha Elections since 1980 94 and 95 3.4 A TMC Candidate Campaigning in South Delhi in 2014 (top) and the Candidate’s Election Leaflet (bottom) 113 3.5 Election Campaign Resources and Publicity for a BJP Candidate in South Delhi in 2014 114 3.6 AAP Candidate Campaigning in Mumbai, 2014 115 3.7 Forecasting Growth of Women MPs in the Lok Sabha in the Absence of Quotas 120 4.1 4.2 4.3 4.4 4.5

Proportion of MPs Elected from SC-Reserved Lok Sabha Constituencies, 10th–16th Lok Sabha Proportion of MPs Elected from ST-Reserved Lok Sabha Constituencies, 10th–16th Lok Sabha Marital Status of Women and Men MPs in the 15th and 16th Lok Sabhas Number of Children among Men and Women MPs in the 15th and 16th Lok Sabhas Age Distribution of Men and Women MPs at the Start of the 15th Lok Sabha (2009)

126 129 139 140 141

x

Tables and Figures

4.6

5.1 5.2 6.1

Age Distribution of Men and Women MPs at the Start of the 16th Lok Sabha (2014)

141

Box Plots Showing Participation in Debates of 14th Lok Sabha by ‘Gender’ Box Plot of Gender and Debates in the 15th Lok Sabha

172 173

Composition of Members of the CEW, 13th to 16th Lok Sabhas

215

Abbreviations

AAP ADR AIADMK AIDWA AIIMS AIMIM AIWC ASHA BJD BJP BPSF BPST BSP CEDAW CEW CPI CPI(M) DMDK DMK DRSC ECI GEM GOI HRD ICC INC

Aam Aadmi Party Association for Democratic Reforms All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam All India Democratic Women’s Association All India Institute of Medical Sciences All India Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul Muslimeen All India Women’s Conference accredited social health activist Biju Janata Dal Bharatiya Janata Party Bengal Provincial Students Federation Bureau of Parliamentary Studies and Training Bahujan Samaj Party Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Discrimination against Women Committee for the Empowerment of Women Communist Party of India Communist Party of India (Marxist) Desiya Murpokku Dravida Kazhagam Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam Departmentally related standing committee Election Commission of India Gender Empowerment Measure Government of India human resource development Internal Complaints Committee Indian National Congress

xii Abbreviations

IPU JD(U) JPC LJP LS MGNREGA MLA MP MPLADS MWCD NCP NDA NFIW NREGA NSFDC OBCs OSCE PDP PMK PNDT RBS RJD RLD RS RSS RTI SAD SCs STs TDP TMC TRS UPA VCK VHP WEN WIA WRB

Inter-Parliamentary Union Janata Dal (United) joint parliamentary committee Lok Janshakti Party Lok Sabha Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act member of legislative assembly member of Parliament MP Local Area Development Scheme Ministry of Women and Child Development Nationalist Congress Party National Democratic Alliance National Federation of Indian Women National Rural Employment Guarantee Act National Scheduled Castes Finance and Development Corporation Other Backward Classes Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe People’s Democratic Party Paattali Makkall Katchi pre-natal diagnostic techniques Royal Bank of Scotland Rashtriya Janata Dal Rashtriya Lok Dal Rajya Sabha Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh right to information Shiromani Akali Dal Scheduled Castes Scheduled Tribes Telugu Desam Party Trinamool Congress Telangana Rashtra Samithi United Progressive Alliance Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi Vishva Hindu Parishad workplace equality network Women’s Indian Association Women’s Reservation Bill

Acknowledgements

his book has been long in the making. Its journey begins in the conT versations we had during the period of research as we worked on the Leverhulme Trust Programme on Gendered Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament (2007–11). So, first, we would like to thank the Leverhulme Trust for the funding that made the research possible. Since then, we have also been supported by the Universities of York, Nottingham, and Warwick, UK, through small grants and study leave; we acknowledge this important contribution to our work. Carole Spary would also like to thank the British Academy, UK, for her small grant (SG131410) in 2013, which enabled research on two chapters of the book and supplementary research throughout the book, and the Economic and Social Research Council, UK, and University of Nottingham for a grant from the Impact Accelerator Fund (2017), which enabled highly fruitful conversations in India on the main findings of the book, helping us to incorporate insights from initial responses to our findings. We would also like to thank most sincerely all the members of Parliament (MPs) who gave us their time—graciously and at times under difficult circumstances; they answered our questions and allowed us to probe their public and private lives. The stories they told (and did not tell) and how they told them provided us with a wonderfully granular picture of women in Parliament—who they are, what they do, and what are their ambitions and fears. Without their contribution, we would not have been able to write this book. Parliamentary officers—especially the joint secretary of the Lok Sabha Secretariat, Ravindra Garimella—have been extremely helpful in our research; they provided us with institutional context, answered

xiv

Acknowledgements

procedural questions, and pointed us towards sources that we needed for our research. We would also like to thank the Parliament Secretariat in New Delhi, which provided us with access to the Parliament library to enable us to acquire official copies of debate proceedings from Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha debates. They also allowed us to access committee reports that were not available on the website, and reports and related literature on the Parliament, including some of the Parliament’s own in-house publications—particularly historical reports which are often difficult or impossible to source from elsewhere—in addition to those available on the Parliament’s extensive website. Access to the Parliament library also enabled us to look through the impressive newspaper archives. Both the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha secretariats very kindly provided us with copies of selected audiovisual recordings of debates, which allowed us to analyse the performances alongside the transcripts of debates and added necessary layers of interpretation, including nonverbal performances of both those speaking and those not speaking but in attendance in the chamber and, occasionally, interesting absences. In addition to the Parliament library, a number of institutions in New Delhi allowed us to access their collections: the Nehru Memorial Museum and Library and the library at the Centre for Women’s Development Studies (CWDS). This enabled access to some parliamentarians’ memoirs and autobiographies and biographies to supplement interview data on experiences of being an MP. Further, autobiographies, biographies, and memoirs were sourced from the British Library. We are also grateful to the many women’s activists who generously shared their insights and experiences on the topic and enabled us to see the contribution of women MPs and the Parliament’s engagement with women’s empowerment, gender equality, and gender justice from multiple angles. We would also like to acknowledge the debt of many colleagues and friends who helped and encouraged us by discussing, reading, and commenting on drafts and challenging us to be clearer, more rigorous, and creative in our analysis: Katharine Adeney, Indu Agnihotri, Molly Andrews, Sarah Childs, Sunetra Choudhury, Emma Crewe, J. Devika, Susan Franceschet, Ravindra Garimella, Niraja Gopal Jayal, Ana Jordan, Kalpana Karunakaran, Vivien Lowndes, Fiona Mackay, Sudha Pai, Jennifer Piscopo, Jeremy Roche, Vidhu Verma, Georgina Waylen, and Andrew Wyatt. In addition, we would like to thank Kalpana Karunakaran (Indian Institute of Technology Madras, India), Indu Agnihotri (CWDS), Mandira Kala (PRS Legislative Research), and Japleen Pasricha and Asmita Ghosh (Feminism in India) for very

Acknowledgements

xv

generously and professionally facilitating talks and workshops, and participants of those events for their generosity in sharing their thoughts, experiences, and responses in relation to our research. Finally, Shirin would like to thank Jeremy Roche, Arjun, and Sean for their patience and their unstinting support during the writing of this book. Carole would like to thank Hazel and David Spary for their continued unconditional support and encouragement; Ana for always understanding; Gareth, Chloe, Emma, and Kerry for keeping her grounded and reminding her what is important; and especially Neil for his endless patience, cups of tea, intelligence, love, hugs, and humour.

Introduction

Traffic Jam For seventy years I am caught in a traffic jam A great rush is on at New Delhi’s Parliament Street: In a line to the right, people jostle and push No one knows since when; To the left some other lines lie entangled; Have a look, men are standing, one upon another: Somebody is distributing seats, another is pulling chairs away; No one moves ahead, or steps aside. I am caught in a traffic jam For the last seventy years! (Gulzar, 2017)

ndependent India has long claimed, and with much justification, to be Irobust. the world’s largest democracy. Indian democracy is noisy, vibrant, and It is multi-layered—elections are its lifeblood and are held every five years (or before, if a government falls prematurely) with vigour and drama at the local, state, and national levels. Despite all odds—narrow registers of party politics, limited nature of electoral representation, of social and economic inequality, high levels of violence and corruption, of reputational concerns about politicians, and norm erosion in political institutions—Indian democracy thrives, with high rates of citizen participation and legitimacy (see Table I.1). Broader still, Parliament is reported on and debated in a vibrant multilingual press and media, and is the subject of satire and humour (Mitra and Singh, 1999) as well Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0001

2

Performing Representation

Table I.1

Turnout in Lok Sabha Elections: 1952–2004

General Election

Year

Male (%)

Female (%)

Total (%)

1st 2nd 3rd 4th 5th 6th 7th 8th 9th 10th 11th 12th 13th 14th 15th 16th

1952 1957 1962 1967 1971 1977 1980 1984 1989 1991 1996 1998 1999 2004 2009 2014

– – 63.31 66.73 60.90 65.63 62.16 68.18 66.13 61.58 62.06 65.72 63.97 61.66 60.24 67.00

– – 46.63 55.48 49.11 54.91 51.22 58.60 57.32 51.35 53.41 57.88 55.64 53.30 55.82 65.54

61.2 62.2 55.42 61.33 55.29 60.49 56.92 63.56 61.95 56.93 57.94 61.97 59.99 57.65 58.21 66.30*

Source: Election Commission of India (ECI), for 1st–14th Lok Sabhas, http://eci.nic. in/eci_main1/votingprecentage_loksabha.aspx; for 15th and 16th Lok Sabha elections, ECI statistical election reports for respective elections. Note: *Also includes new voter category of ‘Others’ with a turnout of 7 per cent.

as sharp criticism and serious comment and debate. Parliament is, in short, the theatre of Indian democracy (Figure I.1). And yet, the cynicism and despair in the earlier poem by a pre-eminent contemporary Urdu poet, Gulzar, encapsulates the disappointment most people feel about the political institutions of India, in particular (as in many countries) about Parliament and its members. Its practices remind us that the radical political possibilities of democratic practice in independent India through its embrace of universal adult franchise continue to pose a massive challenge for the institutional infrastructure of this democracy. Parliamentary claims of representation also beg the question: how can India’s democratic institutions include all its citizens (see Jayal, 2013)? This is not a question faced only by the Indian Parliament; it is a question for all electoral democracies that make claims in wider democratic registers. The predominant way that democratic polities have squared this circle is through translating democracy into electoral representation—as logic and practice. However, this can only be a temporary,

Introduction 3

Figure I.1

Parliament House, Taken from Raisina Road

Source: Carole Spary.

incomplete, and anxiety-producing resolution in the context of complex contradictions that underpin societies. Given these limitations of electoral democracy, how do we emplace Parliament in Indian politics, democracy, and in the lives of Indian citizens? There is relatively little literature on this institution that makes the claim of representing Indian democracy. There are very few critical reviews on the Indian Parliament (Shankar and Rodrigues, 2011; Pai and Kumar, 2014); some are useful descriptive histories of the Indian Parliament (Gupta, 2003; Kashyap, 2008), but overall we have a gap in the political science literature on one of the most important political institutions. Why is this? In addition, for us, the question also arises, why write a book about an institution that stands, at least in the public imaginary, for a political traffic jam—where social inequalities are reflected, reproduced, and performed? In particular, why write a book about women members of Parliament—what is so special about them?1 They hardly form a majority of membership and do not very often participate in parliamentary debates, or take up visible institutional roles, or 1

There is very little written on women parliamentarians in India; see Kumari and Dubey (1994), and Chopra (1993).

4

Performing Representation

indeed  sustain their participation over time. We answer this question by pointing out that gender as an axis of power (not just in India but in all societies and polities) is particularly fraught within the context of democratic institutions and practice. Given the claims that it makes for representation as well as for democratic practice where all are formally considered equal, we argue that Parliament is a particularly productive space to study these contradictions. We do this by first analysing what role Parliament plays in shaping political norms through its performance in a diverse and unequal society; performance not just as effectiveness but as claiming to symbolize Indian democracy and representativeness itself. The claim is that parliaments as institutions not only represent different constituencies, identity groups and interests within a nation but also that they mirror society and that nation at large. [Their] authority and legitimacy are derived from this claim of representativeness, which in turn has to be underpinned by institutional norms and performed by its members—the legislators, the representatives—and accepted by its citizens. (Johnson and Rai, 2015: 1)

These claims are performed through modes of behaviour, institutional norms generated through debates, disruptions, and negotiations within parliamentary spaces as well in the media. The actors on its stage are divergent—they belong to different political parties and espouse different ideologies, their constituencies lie in different parts of the country, they speak different languages, follow different religions, come from different castes and social classes, dress differently, and, of course, are of different genders. Parliament might come across as a traffic jam, or even a car crash, but it does still symbolize one of the most important political features of postcolonial India—its democracy. The systematic exclusion or under-representation of a near half of the population challenges this claim; such under-representation cannot be justified if Parliament is to make a claim to represent all Indian citizens. This complex arc of membership is what performs representation in a democracy; evaluating how gender inequality runs through this institution, and the forms that representation takes as a result, is the focus of our book. Gulzar’s poem encapsulates the ‘decline of parliament’ thesis in India,2 which nests within a discourse of ‘crisis of institutions’ more 2 The ‘decline of parliament’ thesis has been long in the making. See Bernard Crick, The Reform of Parliament (1964). It also has a wide geographic reach— see, for example, Elgie and Stapleton (2006) on Ireland; Herman and Lodge (1978) on European parliaments; and Robert B. Mattes on South Africa (2002).

Introduction 5

generally—our interviewees, the media, and academic literature point to the falling standards of members (education, corruption, behaviour), debates and deliberation (quality, performance, disruption), and lawmaking (expertise, representativeness) and relations with the executive (Elgie and Stapleton, 2006; Pai and Kumar, 2014). Pai and Kumar point out that the concept of decline has been rather loosely used in the literature on the Indian Parliament—from low levels of accountability and oversight to low effectiveness of parliamentary functioning to criminalization of politics and Parliament members, which has led to a crisis of governability and the stagnation of institutions (Kohli, 1991: 402), to being undermined in its law-making function by non-state corporate actors in liberalized India (Kapur and Mehta, 2005). In this book, we do not overlook these issues and claims. Rather, we assess claim-making by trying to understand the work gender does in India’s Parliament: Does the persistent underrepresentation of women in Parliament affect our reception of the performance of representation and the claims to being a strong democracy in the broader politics of the country, and if so how? For example, we discuss how women’s disruptive behaviour in the chamber is received and presented in the media. This does not mean that we do not explore other vectors of representation—class, caste, and religion for example; we employ an intersectional frame to understand not just the formal rules and informal norms that govern Parliament but how gender performs in Parliament. Indeed we contextualize claim-making and analyse it in the setting of the gendered politics within Parliament in order to study what Corbett and Sweeney call ‘the multifaceted role played by parliaments’ (2014: 2). In this book we provide a comprehensive analysis of women’s representation in the Indian Parliament, which we show is a deeply gendered institution. In so doing, we hope not only to further feminist theorizing on political representation, but also to provide a theoretically informed and empirically based analysis of continuities and change in the context of Indian politics. We do this within an innovative performance framework (outlined below), which focuses as much on rules and norms as on the corporeality and speech, stage and script of politics and political life. We also draw on, as well as critique, contemporary feminist approaches and methodologies in the study of gender and representation as we situate the experience of women MPs in the Indian Parliament by analysing both their place and their performance within the institution. The analysis presented in the book integrates the different levels of debate—the global, the national, and the local—to reveal their interconnectedness

6

Performing Representation

in terms of circulation of ideas and the consequences of this circulation in terms of discursive and policy shifts in India. We situate our analysis in India’s history, its changing political economy, and its robust and yet peeling-at-the-edges political system. We argue that institutions can only be understood as embedded in the wider context of society; that we need to understand Parliament as an institution that is functional as well as symbolic and is enmeshed in networks of power that are themselves socio-economic as well as performative. In so doing, we agree with Saward, that ‘we need to move away from the idea that representation is first and foremost a given, factual product of elections, rather than a precarious and curious sort of claim about a dynamic relationship’ (2006: 298).

The Indian Parliament At the time of Independence, although the Constituent Assembly examined non-parliamentary systems of governance, especially the presidential system AS in the United States, it chose to recommend the parliamentary system. B. R. Ambedkar (chairperson of the Constituent Assembly), while introducing the Draft Constitution in the Constituent Assembly on 4 November 1948, explained this choice thus: The Parliamentary system differs from a non-Parliamentary system in as much as the former is more responsible than the latter but they also differ as to the time and agency for assessment of their responsibility. Under the non-Parliamentary system, such as the one that exists in the United States of America, the assessment of the responsibility of the executive is periodic. It takes place once in two years. It is done by the electorate. In England, where the Parliamentary System prevails, the assessment of responsibility of the executive is both daily and periodic. The daily assessment is done by members of Parliament, through questions, resolutions, no-confidence motions, adjournment motions and debates on Addresses. Periodic assessment is done by the electorate at the time of the election— which may take place every five years or earlier. The daily assessment of responsibility which is not available under the American system is, it is felt far more effective than the periodic assessment and far more necessary in a country like India. The Draft Constitution in recommending the Parliamentary System of executive has preferred more responsibility to more stability. (Cited in Khanna, 2008: 92–3)

Responsibility of holding the executive to account is at the heart of this choice—daily through questions, resolutions, debates, and, if necessary,

Introduction 7

no-confidence motions. Of course, the other role of Parliament, which is equally important, is as the law-making body of the country. Once this choice was made, parliamentary institution and its procedures were drafted and membership organized.3 India is a bicameral parliamentary democracy. The lower house of Parliament is called the Lok Sabha (House of the People) and currently has 545 members. Of these, 530 members represent the states, up to 20 members represent Union Territories, and not more than 2 members of the Anglo-Indian Community can be nominated by the President, if not thought to be adequately represented in the House. The upper house is called the Rajya Sabha (House of the States), and now has 245 members. Representatives are elected on a first-past-the-post basis by single-member constituencies for the lower house, and proportional representation from state assemblies for the upper, in addition to a minority of members nominated by the President. As we have noted above, Parliament stands at the heart of this democracy—politically, symbolically, and performatively. With the exception of the internal Emergency between June 1975 and March 1977,4 and subject to varying incidents of socioeconomic violence (Jalal, 1995; Brass 2003), India has had 15 functioning Parliaments in which government legislation has been amended or withdrawn through opposition participation, and in which opposition parties have regularly defeated incumbent governments. More political parties are present in the national Parliament than at any time since Independence—7 national and 45 state-registered parties contested elections in 2009 (Election Commission of India [ECI], 2009e). Candidates from 40 of those parties were eventually elected in 2009 (ECI, 2009b, 2009c, 2009d). In 2014, 37 parties were elected to Parliament, including 12 single-member parties. In the Fifteenth Lok Sabha from 2009, more than half of the MPs, however, represented the two largest national parties, the Indian National Congress (INC, also known as the Congress) and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), and a broader group of MPs are 3

The membership of the Constituent Assembly was 299 and included representatives from Provincial Legislative Assemblies, the Indian Princely States, and the Chief Commissioners’ Provinces (http://164.100.47.194/loksabha/ constituent/facts.html). Only 15 members were women (Ravichandran, 2016). 4 In 1975, Mrs Gandhi, the then prime minister, declared a state of Emergency and suspended all civil rights. The pressure of the movement against the Emergency resulted in elections in 1977 when the Indian National Congress was defeated and an opposition government was formed for the first time since Independence.

8

Performing Representation

shaped by the two opposing coalitions of parties led by these two dominant national parties, the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) and the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) respectively.5 These two coalitions have broadly stabilized since the late 1990s after a period of fragmented coalitions and unstable governments in the 1990s. This followed a long period of decline of the Congress Party–dominance since the 1960s and particularly since the late 1980s (Sridharan, 2002; Yadav and Palshikar, 2006). Broadly speaking, these two coalitions are centre-left (UPA) and right-wing (NDA) on the political spectrum. In addition to the national parties, these coalitions have included smaller state-based parties which range across the political spectrum, from the right-wing Shiv Sena from Maharashtra to the Dravidian parties of south India, the All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) and Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK), to the Shiromani Akali Dal (SAD) of Punjab, as well as the Trinamul (‘grassroots’) Congress Party of West Bengal, all of whom make regionalist claims but with very different approaches, and caste-oriented parties such as those of Uttar Pradesh, the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) and Samajwadi Party (see Chapter 3). Smaller statebased parties have sometimes switched alliances based more on political expediency than ideology; coalition partners can find themselves allied at the national level but rivals at the sub-national level depending on the configuration of parties in India’s notably diverse party system; coalition partners can fall out over programmatic differences, as did the Congress and left parties in 2008, prompting a vote of confidence (see Chapter 5). These complex configurations have often made the Indian Parliament an intensely competitive institutional site for democratic politics. Any Indian citizen who is registered as a voter and is over 25 years of age is allowed to contest elections to the Lok Sabha or state legislative assemblies. For the Rajya Sabha the age limit is 30 years. In the lower house 15 per cent of all seats are reserved for candidates drawn from the Scheduled Castes (SCs)6 and 7.5 per cent for Scheduled Tribes (STs) (Jayal, 2006b: 118). Both of these groups benefit from such affirmative action on the basis of long-standing material deprivation and social and 5 Although INC’s numbers in the Lok Sabha were much smaller after the 2014 election (from 200+ MPs to less than 50), creating a more fragmented opposition with state-based parties, INC still formed the largest party of the opposition and the two broad coalitions still applied. 6 Lower castes, called Schedule Castes after the 9th Schedule of the Indian Constitution in which this provision was made; also known as Dalits.

Introduction 9

economic discrimination (see later). And yet, Velayudhan, the first and only Dalit woman to be elected to the constituent assembly in 1946, argued forcefully in the Constituent Assembly against such affirmative action, pointing to the fundamental contradiction between deep social inequality and the promise of electoral representation. She said: As long as the Scheduled Castes, or the Harijans or by whatever name they may be called, are economic slaves of other people, there is no meaning demanding either separate electorates or joint electorates or any other kind of electorates with this kind of percentage. Personally speaking, I am not in favour of any kind of reservation in any place whatsoever. (28 August 1947)7

Just over 11 per cent of MPs in India’s lower house of Parliament are women; the world average is 23.6 per cent and the regional average (Asia) is 19.7 per cent. This puts India’s rank at 145 out of 193 in the Inter-Parliamentary Union’s league table for women’s representation in parliaments (as at 1 December 2017) and also affects India’s rank, 131, in the UNDP Gender Inequality Index (2017).8 The increase in women’s representation in the Indian political system has, therefore, been relatively small and slow. In fact, all the 333 individual women MPs ever elected to the Lok Sabha, from the 1st to the 16th, would not fill a single Lok Sabha, not even two-thirds, which further underscores the historical dominance of male MPs. Rather than increasing slowly over time, the number of women MPs in the upper house—the Rajya Sabha—from 1952 to now has fluctuated between 5 and 12 per cent, with a slightly higher representation of women in the 1980s compared to the 1990s (see Figure I.2). Women MPs come from the full spectrum of politics—left, centrist, and right wing, from different parts of the country, from different castes and classes, professions, and religions. These differences are often marked through their dress, language, and accents; their positions within their parties and the prominence that they have or not affects their media presence and recognizability. Some women MPs from across the ideological spectrum have become closely associated with the institution of Parliament due to their leadership, contribution, and enduring parliamentary careers—Najma Heptulla (six terms) as the long-serving 7

Constituent Assembly Debates: http://164.100.47.194/loksabha/writereaddata/cadebatefiles/C28081947.html, last accessed on 12 June 2018. 8 See http://hdr.undp.org/en/data, last accessed on 27 October 2017.

10

Performing Representation 100%

Percentage of women MPs

90% 80% 70% 60% 50% 40% 30% 20% 10% 0% 1950 1955 1960 1965 1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000 2005 2010 2015 Year

Figure I.2

Women as a Percentage of Rajya Sabha MPs (1952–2016)

Source: Rajya Sabha (2008, 2014a and 2014b).

Deputy Chairperson of the Rajya Sabha (and longest-serving Rajya Sabha MP among both men and women), Meira Kumar (five terms) and Sumitra Mahajan (eight terms) as the first and second women speakers of the Lok Sabha respectively, and long-serving MPs such as Vijaya Raje Scindia (eight terms), Mamata Banerjee (seven terms), and Maneka Gandhi (seven terms) (see Chapter 4). Communist politician Geeta Mukherjee (seven terms) will forever be associated with her careerdefining contribution towards introducing the Women’s Reservation Bill (WRB) in 1996 as part of a political career spanning six decades. Meira Kumar’s election as the first female Lok Sabha speaker carried additional symbolic significance as one of the Congress party’s representatives from the Dalit community (Armitage, Johnson, and Spary, 2014). Others, however, including some with substantial parliamentary careers, have been less well-remembered due to a lack of memorialization of women’s presence in the Indian Parliament, particularly of female politicians from lower caste and regional or religious minority backgrounds,9 and 9 For example, until recently, some experienced women MPs had no presence on Wikipedia. Rano Shaiza and Dil Kumari Bhandari, the only women MPs ever elected from Nagaland and Sikkim respectively, had no profiles; neither did former women MPs Ganga Devi, Sukhbuns Kaur, and Minimata Agam Dass, each with five parliamentary terms. Saroj Kharpade, the joint secondlongest serving member in the Rajya Sabha among men and women MPs, had

Introduction

11

with the passage of time, many have faded from public memory (see Chapters 2 and 4). This diminished collective history of the contribution of women MPs impacts contemporary narratives of women’s participation, their capabilities, performance, and rationales for greater inclusion. Despite much contemporary media interest in Parliament and its women members, little analysis has been done on the role women play in Parliament—the recruitment battles that they have to win, the negotiations they have to make not only in order to access parliamentary politics but also to survive in it, the narratives about politics that they employ in order to do so and how these are mediated not only by their gender but also their caste, class, and religion/ethnicity. Therefore, in focusing on women in Parliament, this book also casts a spotlight on the working of the institution by asking how representative it is as a gendered establishment. We situate our study of women in Parliament in its historical context—of colonialism, of a one-party dominant system, coalitions, and the rise of state-based politics. We study the institution of Parliament through examining its different facets and modes of working; we analyse its physical space, and show how male and female bodies traverse this space differently; we treat Parliament as a workspace and analyse the debates in which MPs participate by making speeches, disrupting communications, and which provide both opportunities and pitfalls for making and un-making reputations. We also see how all this is done—through the work of political parties, of parliamentary cadres, and through the labour of MPs as they perform representation within this confined and connected institution.

Studying Institutions: Why and How Does Parliament Matter? Parliament matters: Nehru had referred to the ‘majesty of Parliament’ (Kapur and Mehta, 2005: iii) and called the Indian Parliament a ‘temple only three lines on her Wikipedia profile, and a number of women MPs elected from Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe reserved seats with several terms had no profiles (for example, Kamla Kumari from Bihar and Bibha Ghosh Goswami from West Bengal, with four terms each). Several former Muslim women MPs had little to no profile (for example, Mofida Ahmed, Maimoona Sultan, Anis Kidwai, and Aziza Imam). In 2017 Carole Spary together with colleagues from Feminisminindia.com contributed to a campaign to improve the digital archive on women MPs (see https://feminisminindia.com/2017/08/01/indian-womenin-politics-wikipedia-edit-a-thon/, last accessed on 8 May 2017).

12

Performing Representation

of democracy’ (Spary, 2013). Parliaments are political institutions and until recently, institutions—their formal rules and informal norms—were seen as the central subject matter of political analysis. However, how do we understand political institutions? According to Williams, ‘In C20 institution has become the normal term for any organized element of a society’ (1983: 169). Two words are critical here—‘organized’ and ‘society’; Parliament is of course both—an organization that hosts representatives of a particular society and provides the platform for them to perform. However, it also performs itself—an institutional performance, we argue, that reproduces and sometimes challenges dominant social and political relations. However, recent studies of Parliament are dominated by institutionalist perspectives, which we need to understand, take from, and critique in order to distinguish them from our more performative approach. In terms of Pitkin’s (1967) political triptych, Parliament matters descriptively (representing constituents), substantively (making laws), and symbolically (representing democratic politics). Together, these aspects of the working of Parliament also act as a way of measuring the health of democracy in India—if descriptive representation is not evident (too many men, too few women) or if the laws that are made do not get debated well or thoroughly thought through, and if claims are made that are either not recognizable or not fulfilled, then Indian democracy may be seen to be in jeopardy. Parliaments are often presented as undifferentiated institutions although they are historically marked by deep divisions of class, race, gender, (dis)ability, and sexuality. Rai has argued elsewhere that ‘Parliaments … are critically embedded in the political economy of modern state systems and create spectacles of, as well as represent, a particular set of structures-in-dominance’ (2010: 285). Parliamentary Studies as a sub-field has also developed different typologies of legislative institutions, and socialization of parliamentarians has been an important focus of research as scholars have sought to explain why legislators behave the way they do (Mughan, BoxSteffenschmeier, and Scully, 1997; Rosenblatt, 2007). This has been examined from functionalist and behaviouralist perspectives, from the perspective of role theory (Saalfeld and Müller, 1997) as well as rational choice theory (Strøm, 1997). Although these perspectives have contributed enormously to the debates on parliaments, increasingly the insights they have developed have been folded into the broadening field of new institutionalism. While we do not adopt this framework, we outline it here in broad terms to suggest how our own framework allows for a deeper engagement with Parliament and its working.

Introduction

13

The three main strands of new institutionalism that developed in the post–Cold War period are sociological, rational choice, and historical institutionalisms, which although different in emphasis, all subscribe to the centrality of ‘rules, conventions, procedures and norms’ as defining institutions. Feminist institutionalism, also a recent intervention in this debate often cutting across the three types of institutionalism, focuses on how gender norms operate within institutions and how institutional processes maintain gendered norms (Krook and Mackay, 2015). They argue that institutionalism allows them to analyse (a) institutional rules about gender; (b) institutional rules which have gendered effects (but are not specifically about gender); (c) the gendered actors who work with rules; and (d) gendered policy outcomes, which in turn allows them to inquire into how gendered organization of political life make a difference (Gains and Lowndes, 2014). New institutionalism sees institutions as ‘“special” procedures and practices … [and] they show resilience over time, producing “stable, valued and recurring patterns of behaviour”’ (Huntington, 1968), that they ‘exist in every sphere of our lives, the social, economic and political’ and that they ‘all create “patterned interactions that are predictable”’ or rule bound (Lowndes and Roberts, 2013: 3). And as Peters argues, ‘The basic argument is that institutions do matter, and that they matter more than anything else that could be used to explain political decisions’ (2005: 164). New institutionalists also claim that they do not ‘make any assumptions about the shape of political institutions or the values they embody’ (Lowndes and Roberts, 2013: 6), and that they focus on both formal and informal institutions. Structure and agency interact within institutionalism to bring about change, even though the weight placed upon the two varies between the three strands of new institutionalism: rational choice scholars favouring actor/behaviour explanations and historical institutionalists structural path dependence. Recent work in this area is also focusing on how political contestation drives change, and that is essential for institutions because ‘institutions do not survive by standing still’ (Streeck and Thelen, 2005: 24). While sociological institutionalists focus on adaptation of institutions as marking change, rational choice scholars see change as willed by individual actors—critical actors—and historical institutionalists see change as either the product of ‘critical junctures’ (Pierson, 2004, 2015) or achievable through actors’ political contestation (Streeck and Thelen, 2005). New institutionalist scholars claim that this approach ‘has allowed for greater understanding about the co-constitutive nature of politics: the various ways in which

14

Performing Representation

actors bring about or resist change in institutions; and the way institutions shape the nature of actors’ behaviour through the construction of rules, norms and policies’ (Mackay, Kenny, and Chappell, 2010: 573). Finally, there is ‘discursive institutionalism’, which assesses the role of discourse in politics—coordinative among policy actors and communicative between political actors and the public (Schmidt, 2008). Fraser had argued that politics was not simply about contestation over who gets what but also about the representation of needs (1989: 166). As Kulawik summarizes: Within this framework, political power is not only composed of strategic strengths, such as organizational membership or the number of seats in the parliament; it is also the ability to put one’s own interpretation of social terms of use, relations and problems on the political agenda and thus to push for one’s own solutions and proposals. (2009: 265)

Where perhaps it loses explanatory power is when it elides power, discourse, and institutions simply as mutually constitutive (Kantola, 2006), leaving change and agency out of the frame, or when its comparative approach sets up new binaries: as Schmidt argues, discourse ‘comes in two forms: the coordinative discourse among policy actors and the communicative discourse between political actors and the public. These forms differ in two formal institutional contexts; simple polities have a stronger communicative discourse and compound polities a stronger coordinative discourse’ (2008: 303). While there is much of value in the institutionalist approach—the attention to history, the structural power of path dependence, and the recent openness to the importance of ideas and discourses in politics—we are still missing the dialectic of structure and agency of reproduction of, and challenges to, dominant norms and of the dynamic of performance of rules that both shape and are shaped by historical and economic foundations of institutions. In our study, while Parliament clearly fits into this institutionalist framework, its performance constantly slips through the boundaries that are drawn. The first issue for us is how the histories of colonialism, nationalism, and democracy are taken into account (or not) in the study of institutions such as the Indian Parliament—path-dependent explanations do not allow us to note the subtle shifts of emphasis of performance because of these historical movements that often have deep explanatory power. As Crewe points out, ‘Since rules and norms do not shape behaviour on their own, as Bourdieu (1972) argues, but only in conjunction with other aspects of culture, institutionalism makes too

Introduction

15

many prior assumptions’ (2014a: 673). We find that there is little in new institutionalist accounts that takes seriously the power of the symbolic when studying institutions. A broader cultural approach to institutions allows us to study ‘how the symbolic enters into politics, how political actors consciously and unconsciously manipulate symbols, and how this symbolic dimension relates to the material bases of political power’ (Kertzer, 1988: 2–3). This of course leads us to ask questions about the role that emotions rather than reason plays in politics—why do certain objects, rituals, or sites evoke nationalism, solidarity, or revulsion (Bleiker and Hutchinson, 2014)? In this way, the symbolic is a wide spectrum of objects, events, and performances—assemblages—that together allow us to understand the complexity of our social and political life. Second, we find a relatively thin understanding of power within new institutionalist explanations. On the one hand there is little that tells us why there might be concentration of power in some hands (other than a synoptic approach to path dependence) and on the other there is an absence of discussion on what form a redistribution of power might look like and produce. We think that is in part because institutions are not analysed as nested in the political economy and its power structures; how do issues of funding, finance, trade, and class conflict affect the institutions being studied? In the case of India, for example, did, and if so how, has the liberalization of the economy affected the workings, rules, and norms of Parliament (Pai and Kumar, 2014)? Institutional approaches largely steer clear of economic tethering of institutions; we find that a broader conceptualization of institutions as embedded in political economy allows for a more historically and empirically sophisticated study of conflict and contestation that enmeshes institutions and their working. Similarly, there is scant attention paid to discursive power; governmental power is, to use Agamben’s phrase, vicarious—it is constructed and reproduced, in part, through ceremony and ritual, through debates and demonstrations, and through mobilizing of media, by which new meanings of power are inscribed. As Rai has noted, ‘The roles that women and men play dramatise the political moment, the discursive power as well as the gendered social order operative in specific historical contexts and in doing so reveal for us underlying social tensions which point to the palimpsestic nature of political institutions’ (2010: 288). Third, institutions are analysed largely in terms of rules and norms rather than claim-making, aesthetics, and performance of actors and institutions; while the former are important, the latter frame the ways in which rules unfold. As Saward has argued,

16

Performing Representation

Focusing on the representative claim helps us to: link aesthetic and cultural representation with political representation; grasp the importance of performance to representation; take non-electoral representation seriously; and to underline the contingency and contestability of all forms of representation. (2006: 297)

A rules and norms approach might also overlook the interaction of multiple institutions—the Westminster model of parliamentary democracy played out in the context of caste and gender power structures in India, for example, or how parliamentary spaces find different uses over time, which alert us to historical change in everyday life of an institution in unexpected but important ways. A focus on norms—even informal ones—if not complemented by these symbolic shifts can tell only part of the story. ‘Routinisation, socialisation and ritualisation do not here mean powerlessness or meaninglessness; on the contrary, through these processes power becomes invisible, sedimented, “commonsensical” and part of our way of thinking about ourselves as well as those who govern us’ (Rai, 2010: 287). Finally, we find the method of studying institutions rather limited in institutionalist frameworks. While interviews are widely used, there is also a sense that these can only provide illustrative or supporting material to more authoritative evidence in the form of quantitative indicators, discursive markers, or conceptual engagements. As we discuss below, taking a more narrative, performative, ethnographic, and aesthetic approach to our study of Parliament not only allows us to study the informality of processes and everyday workings of the institution and individuals, but such an approach is also more ‘valuable for feminist scholars of political institutions in encouraging them to pay more attention to their own assumptions and their informants’ cultural specificity and context, to diversity between informants and within social groups, and to social change’ (Crewe, 2014a: 678; and see later). If there is an extensive literature on institutions and how to study them, there is also a robust and important literature on gender and representation, which is critically important for us to take into account as we study the presence of women in the Indian Parliament. We now turn to this literature to situate our study.

Gender and Representation in a Performance Register There is a huge feminist literature on gender and representation now (Pitkin, 1967; Lovenduski and Norris, 1989; Phillips, 1995). These debates are well established and we have contributed to these earlier.

Introduction

17

Most of this literature focuses on what Anne Phillips has outlined as the four arguments in favour of increased representation of women in representative institutions: (a) women bring different skills to politics and provide role models for future generations (see also Beard, 2017: 14); (b) women appeal to justice between sexes; (c) it helps in the representation of particular interests of women in state policy (see also Sapiro, 1981); and (d) it results in ‘a revitalized democracy that bridges the gap between representation and participation’ (Phillips, 1998: 228). Different strands of feminism have emphasized different arguments, but most are agreed that there needs to be more women in political institutions. Those who are sceptical of this focus on increased presence of women in legislative institutions also take different approaches: Marxist feminists argue that what we need is to change the institutions themselves but that, as Audre Lorde said, ‘The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House’10 (Diamond and Hartsock, 1981); poststructuralist feminists worry about co-option—Yeatman, for example, has criticized femocrats for colluding with the state in its rolling back of social provision (1990; see also Fraser, 2009). There have also been debates among feminists about the methodologies of change although most have argued that women experience and need to resist what Skjeie calls ‘the duty to yield’ (1991) when it comes to pressing gender claims in politics; liberal feminists until recently worried about moving away from the principle of meritocracy, but Kymlicka opened up the debate on group representation in order to take into account historical injustices (1995a); Phillips argued for a participatory mode of consultation of women linking the local community with party conferences and representatives (1998: 238); Marxist feminists wanted to work with raising consciousness as a means for not only mobilizing women but also changing their thinking about the sexual division of labour, which they found to be at the heart of gender inequality. More recently, there is emerging a consensus in both academic and policy circles that affirmative action or quotas are ‘a fast-track to equality’ (Dahlerup and Freidenwall, 2006). However, some still do worry that this emphasis on increasing the presence of women in politics absorbs too much of the energy from women’s movements without producing enough rewards in the form of progressive changes in women’s lives (Hassim, 2016). This aligns with some of the earlier worries about the focus on what Hannah Pitkin has called ‘descriptive 10

http://collectiveliberation.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/Lorde_ The_Masters_Tools.pdf.

18

Performing Representation

representation’ (1967); she argued that representing ‘means acting in the interests of the represented, in a manner responsive to them …[that] there must be a constant condition of responsiveness, of potential readiness to respond’ (Pitkin, 1967: 209, 233). Two things that affect our approach stand out in this rich debate. One is that almost all of this literature is based on the histories and experiences of the states/institutions/policies of the largely social democratic Western societies, especially the theoretical literature. This matters not only because its transferability to economically poor countries remains limited, especially as this limitation is not often acknowledged, but also because much of its universalism undermines the performance of ‘other’ representative modes. From language to attendance, from modes of communication and debate to analysing disruption and its various forms, the everyday institutional practice is judged according to norms of the other—in the case of India, British colonial or Westminster parliamentary institutional norms. Second, and in line with our observation in the context of institutionalism, it is focused on what Hannah Pitkin called the descriptive and substantive representation—descriptive as in ‘accurate’ representation of the communities and substantive as in the outcome that results from an active representation. It did not, until very recently, focus on the third aspect of representation that Pitkin noted, the symbolic. In their intervention in this debate, Lombardo and Meier argue that symbolic representation contains not only a visual dimension, expressed through symbols, but also a discursive dimension such as found in metaphors and stereotypes often expressed in policy discourses (2014). In this book we suggest that a performance approach is more able to encapsulate the descriptive as well as substantive and symbolic aspects of politics; that the symbolic is not only visual and discursive but also performative; and that the symbolic is dialectical—it emerges through the interaction between the performer and the audience. We suggest that such an approach can be materialized through anthropological, ethnographic, and aesthetic approaches. Ethnographies depend on a close/thick description of the subject and sites of research and pay close attention to the value that is attached, promoted, and reproduced through forms of performance of politics by examining ceremony and ritual, speech and voice, stage and staging, time and timing, bodies and embodiments. As such, ethnography is inductive in its approach to data collection and analysis. It is a dialogic and holistic approach that has the potential to co-produce meanings and to capture the context in which it sits. Ethnography also has the potential of revealing particular cultural

Introduction

19

moments and aspects through a study of performance of institutional rituals and ceremonies, decentring in this process the more Westerncentric approaches to politics that assume liberal principles as the foundations of all democratic representative institutions. In this book, we argue that gendered ceremony and rituals challenge the utilitarian and rational choice understanding of political scope, decision-making and policy outcomes. It highlights the role of emotion, sentiment and affect in politics and helps us understand how everyday rituals and ceremonial performances hold disparate interests, histories and visions of the future together against all odds, while at the same time embodying the possibilities of evolutionary, transgressive and disruptive change. (Rai, 2010: 287; see also Crewe and Müller, 2006; Crewe, 2014b)

Moore and Myerhoff argue that the actions and symbols used are extraordinary themselves, or ordinary ones invested with special meanings, setting them apart from others. The deployment of the symbolic orders, through precise—and sometime exaggeratedly so—organized events, produces a sense of belonging and a collective dimension which has a social meaning (1977: 7–8). Ceremony and ritual thus provide the glue that binds individuals to each other, to the social forms within which they perform, and to commonly held ideals and ideas that cohere within societies and polities. However, this is not to make ceremony and ritual functional to the study of power but to articulate the delicate and often overlooked interlacing between spectacle and power—power is performed and as such is vulnerable to disruption (Spary, 2013). While the traditional Westminster gown of the speaker was quietly withdrawn in the Indian Parliament, gender norms of dress—traditional/national or modern/Western dress—continue. Not only do MPs show the regional and cultural diversity of the country through the clothes they wear, dress also reveals the gendered order of the institution which allows men to wear Western clothes to Parliament but through performing dis/approval or translating dress into appropriate behaviour disciplines women to stick to wearing saris or salwar kameez. However, the spaces within Parliament have evolved and changed through gendered critique and struggle (Puwar, 2010) allowing women and men to perform their roles differently over time. Seeing ceremony and rituals as performances then allows us to reflect on the importance of political aesthetics (Virmani, 2015; Bleiker, 2017): What do public buildings attempt to project? Why are they decorated the way they are? What

20

Performing Representation

gendered stories do institutions tell about themselves, which make women ‘strangers’ in their space of work and let continue male modes of everyday performances (Rai, 2014b)? So, while Pitkin’s observation about the importance of symbolic representation is really valuable, we would argue that it does not go far enough; a performance approach stretches the symbolic, enfolds it, and connects it with the descriptive and the substantive (Rai, 2017b). In the next section we briefly outline the approach that we take in the study of the Indian Parliament and in the analysis of the work of its women members.

Performing Representation: A Framework Parliament is not only an important institution of governance; compared to other governance institutions it is also more visibly performative. As we noted above, parliaments are not only authorized to represent, they also, in fact, somehow claim to collectively mirror the society and nation at large. They not only make laws and hold the executive accountable but also make a ‘representative claim’ (Saward, 2006; 2010) to represent different constituencies, identity groups, and interests. If this claim is seen as valid—through the shaping of parliamentary membership by regular free and fair elections, for example—then the parliament and indeed the country is seen to be democratic; if not, then democracy as practiced is held in doubt. For example, the Inter-Parliamentary Union’s report states: ‘The events of the Arab Spring since the beginning of 2011 reinforce the central role of parliaments in the quest for greater political voice and democracy’ (IPU, 2012: 2). While there is a rich literature in the field of political science on democratic representation and claim-making (Pitkin, 1967; Norval, 2000; Saward, 2010), very little work has been done on how these representative claims are made and what makes them legitimate— and even this is largely spun off from institutional practices and norms. Overlooking the processes through which democratic practice takes shape is a serious limitation to our understanding of representative politics; it is a gap in democratic theory that this volume will attempt to fill. Rai has argued for a performance and politics framework for analysing the reproduction and circulation of power in parliaments through taking centrally not only institutional rules and norms but also the performance, both formal and informal, in and of Parliament (2014b). This framework has two axes: The first brings into view the body (the somatic norms of the institutions), space (in which the performer performs), voice (both

Introduction

21

in terms of representative inclusion and in the performative tool), and labour (that goes into the learning and producing of a performance). The second axis allows for an analysis of issues of authenticity of representative performance, which often underpin institutional legitimacy, which means disaggregating the bundle of performative skills that political actors historically draw upon. It also focuses on how performances can also produce liminal moments which might lead to ruptures in institutional practice or might fizzle out and yet leave a mark that might cumulatively produce change over time. This framework has been visualized in Table I.2. We employ this framework but also work through other important methodologies—narrative research and ethnographic literature, for example, is particularly useful to us in order to explore parliaments as democratic institutions in the following chapters. This allows us to engage with mainstream and feminist theories of representation and the literature on parliaments in a productive and yet innovative way (see Spary, 2013; Rai, 2014b; Rai and Johnson, 2014). Particularly, our extended interviews take the form of a narrative that our interviewees engage in and provide us.

Researching the Indian Parliament There are three major theoretical and analytical premises that are fundamental to this volume. The first premise is that institutional development Table I.2

Politics and Performance Framework

The body

*

Space/place/ stage Words/scripts/ speech/voice Performing/ performative labour Reception/ audience

Mode of Representative Resistance to Authenticity representation liminality representation of representation

Source: Shirin Rai. Note: *The boxes represent the different aspects of this framework that can be combined to empirically research how claims are made.

22

Performing Representation

needs to be analysed in context—the link between access to power structures and achieving a gender balance between men and women in Parliament as well as participation in decision-making will be made in the context of India’s history, politics, and economy. Our argument is that without such contextualization we risk depoliticization of representative politics as well as policy-making. The second premise of the book is that an increase in women’s representation is needed—not in any instrumental way, but because of an argument based on access to justice, where justice seen as access to an imbricated set of resources is the only way forward for addressing women’s political representation. The argument here builds on Nancy Fraser’s earlier work on the importance of redistribution of resources in conjunction with recognition of identities (Fraser, 1995). The performance of women in Parliament, we suggest, is affected by multiple vectors—their numbers there, their politics and the party they belong to, their social, caste, regional, linguistic, and class positions, and the changing gendered landscape of their constituents. A final premise is that we need to analyse representation in terms of intersection of identities and their performance in order to understand how these mediate gendered strategies of political participation. This allows us to explore how performance and politics are co-constitutive and how bringing this interaction into view allows us to ask different questions about politics, its gendered nature, and its evolving discourses. The arguments presented in this book are based on different sets of empirical data collected over extended periods of time. Rai conducted a study of 23 women MPs in the Indian Parliament, over a 10-year period in the two Parliaments—1994 (the 10th Lok Sabha) and 2004 (the 14th Lok Sabha); a third of these MPs were interviewed at least twice. The research explored issues of gender and representation at three different levels: (a) the route that women are able to take through the Indian party system—what are the disincentives, supports, and negotiated positions that they encountered in their attempts to be selected for election; (b) the profiles of the women who do make it through the selection and election processes—what impact does their class, caste, religion, education, and profession have on their ability to perform their duties and to garner resources to do so; and (c) how they are able (or not) to negotiate the various pressures that their different roles—public and private—bring with them. The 10-year period saw some of the original respondents become Cabinet members and others leave the Parliament—some to return to regional politics, others to become chief ministers of state governments, and still others to leave institutional and party politics altogether. Rai’s

Introduction

23

research focused on how the changes in the Indian political system— with caste-based and regional political parties proliferating—as well as the pressures of institutional and party politics have affected women’s participation in electoral politics at the national level. Spary interviewed female and male MPs between 2009 and 2016. Spary’s research also focused on the intersections between gender, development, and electoral politics in India. She analysed women’s political participation through researching candidates and elected representative at both the subnational and national levels, especially during the 2009 and 2014 elections, and she specifically researched the election and the role of the first female speaker, Meira Kumar, to examine whether ‘critical actors’ make a difference to the everyday functioning of Parliament. The research also focused on the repeated disruptions to parliamentary debates, as well as the ethno-linguistic representation and multilingualism in the Indian Parliament, which contributes to an understanding of how identity politics may be identified and observed through diverse styles of parliamentary performance, as well as being embedded in institutional rules, norms, and cultures. The data from both these empirical studies carried out by the authors forms the basis of this book, together with extensive archival work, print- and web-based media research as well as secondary data reviews. Here research on the pathways female political leaders take to political office in India sought to destabilize the dominant focus on dynasty and understand the plural and diverse routes to political office and their consequences among a few elite female leaders. The selection criteria for the sample of members was based on party political affiliations, religious and regional diversity, class and professional background, and the generational span, both in terms of age and the time served in Parliament (see Table A.1). In total, we carried out 51 interviews. A narrative analysis (Andrews, Squire, Tamboukou, 2008) of these made for, we hope, a more nuanced understanding of women’s political representation. Of course, individual narratives can be open to the problem of over-interpretation—of the gaps between the individual’s self-projection and external scrutiny of their actions as well as our own biases. We can address this only if we ‘pay attention to the microcontexts of research’ through which stories take shape and are read (Squires, 2008: 59). Most of the interviews were conducted at the MPs’ homes—the senior MPs often have an office attached to their government-provided bungalows—thus blurring the spatial politics of this research. The public and the private often overlapped when these women were interviewed as they went about their daily lives—answering endless phone calls, telling

24

Performing Representation

constituents to wait while they spoke to us at length, giving orders to domestic helps about daily chores to be performed in the home—while at the same time often presenting a decidedly thought-out political response to our questions. All MPs were interviewed in the language they were comfortable in (and which we could speak)—English, Hindi, Urdu, and Punjabi. Despite our best efforts, we were not always able to interview women MPs purposively selected to ensure a range of social identities, class positions, and regional origins. This is a common problem when trying to generate a large number of interviews among elite research subjects. But as we discuss in Chapter 4, identities are inscribed onto individual subjects in complicated ways—gender, caste, class, region, religion, for example—cautioning against any clear inferences based on singular categories. Instead we have sought to supplement these limitations by sourcing additional documentary material. We use memoirs and autobiographies of women MPs to understand how women parliamentarians themselves have documented their experiences of Parliament, how they recounted their experiences and of what significance the Parliament was in their political careers. As Janaki Nair argues, while ‘oral histories and autobiographies cannot be the only legitimate source for feminist historiography, […] they form the basis for the history of women finding a voice or developing a notion of selfhood’ (1994: 87). This also works against the privileging of the orthodox archival source given the historical inequalities that surround the production and consumption of these sources. We see these sources as ‘sites of self-performance for their authors, providing a stage upon which the narrator consciously performs a “public” version of themselves who engages with the “present” context of their audience’ (Devenish, 2013: 283). We also accessed the parliamentary library—a cavernous and wellresourced space that was mostly empty when we worked there, but housed dedicated, if at times bewildered, staff who puzzled at our requests for minutes of meetings from long ago and books that no one had touched for many years. The audiovisual unit of Parliament provided us with CDs to view members’ participation. This, we realized, was a really important source of information for us but also the place of CD distribution was an important part of claim-making by members—with illiteracy figures still high in rural constituencies, CDs were often used as modes of communication between MPs and their constituencies, though online streaming platforms such as YouTube have also become an archive of parliamentary

Introduction

25

speeches (discussed in Chapter 4). Attracting attention of the cameras in the chamber was strategically important but also a sensitive political task—disruptive behaviour might attract the camera but also might surprise and repulse the audience, prompting a focus on the speaker to protect institutional reputation. Another source of information we mined was the wonderful resource that is the Parliament’s website— parliamentofindia.nic.in—with all the Constituent Assembly debates, data on MPs, and transcripts of debates and committee documents. And we also lurked—sat through some debates in the Chamber, saw the recordings of Lok Sabha TV, and stood around in the corridors of Parliament, noted the comings and goings of constituents and citizens in the waiting hall, and reflected on the story that the Parliament Museum, New Delhi, tells and how the parliamentary space is being securitized as we tried to take photographs outside the parliamentary estate. We ‘tagged along’ with MPs in their constituencies as they campaigned during elections. This multifaceted approach to researching Parliament allowed us a complex, nuanced, and embedded view of the institution as a site of performance of a gendered politics. Elinor Ostrom emphasized that explanatory complexity and chaos are not one and the same thing—that messy explanations reflect complex situations and can allow us to go beyond top-down, unconnected, and disembedded policies (Ostrom 2009: 8). This book has a similar message—we have jettisoned neat and parsimonious explanatory models in favour of a performative and narrative analysis through which a more nuanced understanding of women’s political representation may emerge. At the same time, we have also harnessed quantitative data produced by electoral and governmental bodies and generated by our own studies to analyse the participation and representation of women in the Indian Parliament.

The Structure of the Book The book is organized into nine chapters. Chapter 1, ‘The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation’, outlines the historical development of parliamentary institutions in India. It embeds Parliament in its colonial history—as an institution as well as a site of representative politics. To do so, it situates the development of Parliament in the struggles of independence in the multifaceted governance regime that was colonial India. It also examines the making of Parliament as a building complex, where the everyday work of

26

Performing Representation

Parliament takes place and shows how this space is ‘indigenised’ after Independence; how the imperial architecture of Lutyens and Baker is tamed to the purposes of its postcolonial masters, making it the securitized space it is today. It examines the changing socio-economic and cultural background of the representatives who sit in legislatures and the role of parliamentary procedures in seeking to check executive powers and influence policy. In Chapters 2, 3, and 4 we focus on bodies in Parliament. Chapter 2, ‘Pathways to Parliament’, outlines four avenues of parliamentary access for Indian women politicians—kinship and family networks, social and political movements, the party system, and the struggle over quotas for women. Building on the methodological discussion of narrative structures, this chapter will show how through a close reading of the changes in the political environment of the country, as well as of the life stories of women members of Parliament, we can piece together the complex layers of negotiations that women make to be successful. This, the chapter will conclude, allows us to view the importance of different strategies of political access in specific and embedded political, social, and economic contexts while, at the same time, to develop methodological insights into the broader issues of gendered access to politics. In Chapter 3, ‘Contesting Elections: Women’s Candidacy for the Lok Sabha’, we discuss the role of political parties as gatekeepers to parliamentary politics. This chapter specifically explores women’s participation as candidates in the general elections for the Lok Sabha over the last 20 years to understand the role that elections and the election process have on women’s route to parliamentary office. By analysing trends in the nomination of women by political parties and across states and regions we contest notions of incrementalism, which are used to counter proposals for quotas, and which argue that women’s presence in elected bodies will increase over time. We argue that although women’s representation has increased in numerical terms over the last 20 years, this increase has been marginal. In Chapter 4, ‘Representative Women? Presence and Performance of Intersectionality’, we examine the link between women representing women both in terms of their ‘descriptive’ attributes and the outcomes of their representation to suggest that focusing on this link depoliticizes analysis and leads to flawed policy outcomes. The chapter will outline the social profiles of women in the Indian Parliament and explore the development of an intersectionality of identities and their mobilization by autonomous social movements, as well as by organized political parties, to reflect upon the relationship between the movements

Introduction

27

and parties and the politics of representation that women MPs reflect in their work in Parliament. In Chapter 5, ‘Women Members of Parliament: Presence and Participation in Parliamentary Debates’, we explore speech: women’s contribution to parliamentary debates. How women access debates through party mechanisms, which concerns they are likely to prioritize (for example, party, constituency, issue-based), the extent to which they participate, whether, if at all, they foreground their identity as women (or other aspects of identity), and the ways in which their contributions are received and interpreted (promoted, lauded, acknowledged, prevented, ignored, silenced, or delegitimized) by others form the substance of this chapter. Our analysis encompasses both explicitly gendered debates as well as debates which have no explicit gender dimension but have been selected for their parliamentary and national significance—the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005; the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (NREGA) debated in August 2005; and the high-profile Motion of Confidence in July 2008. The establishment of the Joint Parliamentary Committee (JPC) for the Empowerment of Women in 1996 forms the subject of Chapter 6, ‘The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women’. We examine the working of the committee as a politically gendered space and one which enables the substantive representation of women. We explore the gendered micro-politics of the only female-dominated committee in Parliament: the circumstances in which it was established, its functioning, how and why members are appointed, its subjects of investigation to date, the minority presence of male MPs on the committee, and the extent to which partisan politics has the potential to divide women MPs on empowerment issues. We also discuss the extent to which the committee is an effective body for linking women MPs, the national machinery for women, and the women’s movement in India. In Chapters 7, 8, and 9 we ask, can Parliament make change happen as it changes its own contours? In Chapter 7, ‘Follow the Money: Expenses and Expenditure’, we note that the arguments for greater presence of women are often presented in functionalist terms. A direct or indirect link is made between descriptive and substantive representation. By ‘following the money’, we not only address issues of corruption in parliamentary politics but also work in a more expansive mode to reflect upon the money–politics nexus. We map the effects of money on garnering resources for influence: election expenses, asset accumulation, and spending of MP Local Area Development Scheme (MPLADS).

28

Performing Representation

We assess how money is seen and spent—on and by women MPs. Our concern is to examine how money plays a part in the gendered life of Parliament. Chapter 8, ‘Narratives of Politics and Leadership’, is concerned with the important but often overlooked issue of leadership in Parliament. We analyse whether narratives of politics and leadership that women MPs employ and perform suggest that women’s precarious positions within Parliament, party politics, and on the borders of the public and the private generate a vocabulary of service rather than leadership, which is seen as an appropriate characterization of women’s public work. Chapter 9, ‘Sustaining Participation’, addresses the question, why do women stay on in politics and why do they leave it? In this final chapter, we examine the issue of sustainability of political participation—something that is rarely focused on in the studies in representative politics. While the recruitment of women into politics is often assessed within their family context, their continued participation is not regarded in the same way—how important is the support of the family to the sustainability of their presence in Parliament? The pressures of work, the conditions of work, the levels of political and the institutional support available from political parties and Parliament to women members, the pressures of expectation of constituencies, travel, life–work balance all contribute to the sustainable participation of women in Parliament. We augment this analysis with an exploration of the party political support of women’s parliamentary careers by examining the re-nomination and re-election of incumbent women MPs over successive parliamentary terms. In the ‘Conclusion’, the major theoretical themes of the book will be revisited to suggest how the issue of women’s representation in the Indian Parliament is framed within the context of neoliberal development and the politics of recognition.

1

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

The seats of the mighty were now occupied by men he had often seen and heard and talked to … At the headquarters of the provincial governments, in the citadels of the old bureaucracy, many a symbolic scene was witnessed … suddenly hordes of people, from the city and the village, entered these sacred precincts and roamed about almost at will. (Nehru, in Jayal, 2001)

oday the Indian Parliament is a vital part of the political tapestry of Indian democracy. As an institution it is symbolic of the democratic T norms and representative politics that took shape in postcolonial India; India claims to be the ‘largest democracy in the world’ and reflects the shifts in the political and economic structures of the country through the changing social composition of the membership of Parliament. It is the product of political struggles that have taken many forms and have been performed in different times and spaces—under colonial rule and in independent India—and in complex discursive registers. Parliament is the stage where its members, the representatives of the citizens of India, display their craft, make fine speeches, and also create unseemly spectacles that challenge dominant hierarchies and sometimes embarrass and even disgust their audience. This is a stage where civility and courtesy rub shoulders with abuse and impertinence; where the corridors are full of people who dress for their parts in their regional/state dress, in saris or salwar kameez, or continue to sport ‘Western formals’; where there are at least 15 languages in which speech acts are delivered and translators are kept busy and employed. The ‘backdrop’ of this stage is decorated with murals; portraits and statues and busts are prominent on Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0002

30

Performing Representation

stage, all reflecting this new and vibrant postcolonial democracy through national(ist) figures, historical moments, and visions of the future. But it was not always thus. The making of the Indian Parliament has a long history that is inextricably linked to the struggles for India’s independence, political representation, and the politics of identity and citizenship. In this chapter we take a bird’s eye view of this multifaceted history by examining the origins of Parliament, the nationalist struggles for representation, and how these found political as well as physical form—in the gradual, but inexorable, deepening of representative politics as new groups entered Parliament and in the buildings of the parliamentary complex and the architectural debates that surrounded its construction and aestheticization. Bringing the two together shows us how Indian nationalism found its gendered form in the pages of statutes and in the portals of buildings as well as in the bodies that inhabit these spaces; it focuses on the different materialities attached to representation.

The Making of Parliament The political genesis of India’s Parliament can be traced as far back as the Great Revolt of 1857 and the transfer of power from the Mughals and the East India Company to the British state. As Nehru put it, The Revolt of 1857–58 … ended many things. It ended the line of the Great Moghal … [it] also put an end to the rule of the East India Company … in 1877, the Queen of England took the title of ‘Kaiser-iHind’ … The Moghal dynasty was no more. But the spirit and even symbols of autocracy remained, and another Great Moghal sat in England. (1999: 415)

The transfer of power from the East India Company to the British state took place under the Government of India Act of 2 August 1858. This Act created a Council for India to advise the newly constituted offices of viceroy and secretary of state (Allbrook, 2014). In 1861, the Indian Councils Act set up the Imperial and local Legislative Councils. While Sarkar has called these largely decorative (1983: 12), Morris-Jones saw these as part of the legacy of federalist and democratic government in India (1974: 20). Either way, large parts of the country were left under the rule of Indian princes: ‘We find that the British, the most advanced people in Europe at the time, ally themselves in India with the most backward and conservative classes. They bolster up a dying feudal class … they support the hundreds of dependent Indian rulers in

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

31

their semi-feudal states’ (Nehru, 1999: 430). With the transfer of power, administrative and political considerations changed and led to some controversial decisions by the British viceroy, whose status as the head of the British colonial government became very powerful. In 1905 Bengal was partitioned into two by Lord Curzon, leading to much disquiet and agitation. The capital of India moved from Calcutta to New Delhi in 1912. The move was announced by King George V at the Delhi Durbar in 1911.1 The ceremonial and the spatial thus marked this important political shift of power from the start: ‘Parliamentary institutions in India evolved in a context of rapid socio-economic and cultural change’ and a culture marked by political protest that both pressurized and responded to the scale of constitutional reform on offer (Brown, 1999: 434). The Parliament grew out of these pressures of popular demands for representative governance. For the British, the symbolic move from Calcutta to New Delhi underlined the break from the earlier period of British presence in India to a more ordered governance by the Crown; it was also a response to the growing discontent and agitation against British rule in Calcutta. This symbolic break found material form in what came to be called Lutyens’s Delhi, after the architect who built the city that was to house British power ruling India until 1947. The Indian Parliament is, therefore, situated in New Delhi, which remained India’s capital after its independence (see Figure 1.1). Capitals and capital architecture have been seen as representative of political systems; Aristotle wrote, ‘An acropolis is suited to an oligarchy or a monarchy, but a plain to a democracy’ (2000 [350 BC]: Book 11: 122). For Parkinson, capitals ‘are, by design, by usage or both, symbols of national institutions, values, myths and norms—they contain such symbols and they are, in their own right, such symbols. But they are also symbols of who constitutes the nation, who is recognized as being a part of the demos and who is not’ (2012: 10). Capital cities reflect, spatially and politically, the ‘greatness’ or the ‘spirit’ of the nation state; representation here is a key concept—who and what is represented through public spaces and buildings? Representative institutions are sited in particular spaces because they signify the power of those who rule; national parliaments are always sited in national capitals: 1 For a reflective, historical analysis of the place of Durbars in British India, see Bernard Cohen, in Hobsbawm and Ranger (2012).

32

Performing Representation

Figure 1.1

India Gate, New Delhi

Source: Authors.

Capital cities often have defined civic centres which feature collections of public buildings, monuments to public figures, and memorials of significant events; they play host to major national rituals, house decision makers in the country’s most important political institutions, and feature symbols of national identity, ideals and aspirations, much more than other cities. Indeed, many capital cities were deliberately built to act in such a symbolic way. (Parkinson, 2012: 3)

The materiality of the capital city is reflected in its architecture. Breuer argues that ‘architecture is power made concrete; architecture is the materialization of social rule’ (cited in Sonne, 2003: 30; see also Parkinson, 2012). Public architecture is often embellished by the making of monuments: ‘The city requires adorning, its important points emphasising with monumental masses and its heroic honouring’ (Abercrombie, in Sonne, 2003: 192). Arches, cupolas, and statues do the work of memorializing history in all capital cities. The architecture of public buildings in capital cities evokes strong response for many different reasons. First, there is the functional judgement—in its material solidity and (almost) permanence it is a daily reminder of the purposes for which it was built. In this context the focus might be on whether it is efficacious as the space for which it was constructed: does it work? Light, air, and the ‘atmosphere’ that dwell within its walls might, as immaterial

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

33

markers, allow people to make judgements about whether the building ‘works’ for its purpose. Necessarily, this judgement can be made by those who work in the building and whose daily lives are affected by the environment that the architect has created for them. Second, there is the aesthetics of a building: a public building is also judged by those who view it from the outside—the neighbourhood and the passing public make judgements about the form of the building and also about its influence or ‘shadow’ on the immediate environment. A football stadium, for example, might be attractive to look at and bring in trade but also create traffic jams and noise in a neighbourhood. As religious universes collapsed around the thrones of monarchs, new modes of authoritative symbols were needed for the civic space to cohere around—to be proud of, awed by, or work in. As Walzer notes, ‘Politics is an art of unification; from many, it makes one. And symbolic activity is perhaps our most important means of bringing things together, both intellectually and emotionally, thus overcoming isolation and even individuality’ (1967: 194). While we might take issue with the underlining Durkheimian approach to rituals and cohering societies (Lukes, 1975; Rai, 2010), it is nevertheless important to note the importance of the symbolic to the political that Walzer emphasizes (see also Lombardo and Meir, 2014). It is this symbolic aspect of buildings—their architecture, the way in which they are ‘decorated’ with statues, paintings, and images to reflect power, authority, change, and consolidation—that is the focus of this chapter. The argument is that states need to shore up their authority in different ways; the ‘invention of tradition’ (Hobsbawm and Ranger, 2012) is an important way of reproducing state authority and needs not only the performative ceremony and rituals. Third, public architecture is often judged in terms of accountability—how much was spent on it, whether it was ‘value for money’, did it generate jobs for the local economy, and will it contribute to the regeneration of the area in the medium to long term. The issue of cost is, of course, directly linked to the issue of democratic accountability—who decides about what to build and when and why? Who pays for the building? These are important questions which also reflect the shifting debates on accountability—the question of what are the appropriate levels of expenditure of public funds for public projects is linked to the role of the state and its projection in the public space. Finally, and linked to all the above, is the judgement made in terms of a building’s symbolism and aesthetic (see Virmani, 2015). Often public buildings are seen as ‘projections of power’ of the state rather than simply as aesthetic and functional projects (Ridley, 1998).

34

Performing Representation

New meanings of authority are projected in the public space in different ways, which might reflect the zeitgeist of the time. However, historical and temporal contexts frame political architecture. The problem then arises when the material form of the buildings and the politics surrounding them develop a historic disconnect—the accession of Queen Victoria as Empress of India in 1858 and the election of Jawaharlal Nehru as the first Prime Minister of independent India, for example. How are these moments marked in and through space, place, and architecture even as they are marked in new arrangements of political and legal statutes and indeed in new discourses of power? See, for example, the photos of the All India War Memorial Arch (India Gate) and the King George V Memorial2 before and after Independence, with and without the statue of King George; the latter was removed after Nehru’s death in 1964. Today, the monuments that once graced colonial architecture, including the statue of King George, find place only in the ‘graveyard’ of such vanities in the outskirts of the capital3 while the buildings that housed them remain intact and in daily use. The debates on the making of a new capital—the move from Calcutta to New Delhi—marked the second phase of British colonialism in India, and the new aesthetics that replaced the old within these buildings underscored the first phase of Indian independence.

Political and Institutional Change The genesis of India’s Parliament can be traced back to the British response to the crisis of 1857 and the passing of the Government of India Act of 1858. Colonial conceptions of good government were not about representation and accountability but consultation and efficiency (Hewitt, 2006). However, between 1861 and 1892 when the various Indian Councils Acts were passed, an emergent English-speaking elite brought sufficient pressure to bear on the British authorities to make these bodies more accountable and to widen their scope of deliberation. Colonial reform in India was to confirm the role of elected bodies as valuable conduits of political patronage and influence. It would also, in the long term, familiarize India’s political elite with the peculiarities of parliamentary forms of government both as an arena of practical politics and as a political ideal worth striving for. 2 3

See http://www.lutyenstrustexhibitions.org.uk/new-delhi-3/4581132197. See http://www.greatmirror.com/iCurzonndex.cfm?navid=493.

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

35

With the transfer of power from the East India Company to the British state, the problems of governance of the country became the pivot on which its political discourses and institutions evolved. Washbrook has argued persuasively that the British approach to institutional development had at its centre the argument for an efficient functioning of the state rather than a concern with abstract rights (2001: 84–5). It was also, Washbrook argues, an outsourcing of the unpleasant business of extracting taxes and, as the movement for representation gathered momentum, to shape this debate on two counts: first, to address the issue of who is able to represent whom through separate electorates for Hindus, Muslims, and other communities and second, to decentralize through a ‘pseudo-federalism’ largely based on the political situating of the princely states within the empire (Washbrook, 2001: 86–9). Early evidence for this analysis of the development of British colonial institutions of governance came with the establishment of the Governor’s Council, introduced in the wake of the Mutiny,4 where Indian notables advised the newly established Indian Civil Service about the ‘native opinion’ (Washbrook, 2001: 86). The 1880s saw the emergence of a moderate nationalist movement, led by middle-class professionals organized into INC, whose first meeting was held in December 1885 when 72 ‘largely self-appointed delegates met for the first session … at Bombay’ (Sarkar, 1983: 88).5 Allan Octavian Hume was the first general secretary of the Congress, with others including Surendranath Banerjee, Pherozesha Mehta, Badruddin Tyabji, and the economic historian and Westminster MP, Dadabhai Naoroji. These men were largely Anglophiles and expected a meaningful dialogue with the British rulers, whose civilizational claims they generally accepted and even wished to emulate. They were also, therefore, regarded as ‘political mendicants’ who were largely ignored by the British political and administrative elites (Bayly, 2012: 343). They did, however, capture the growing discomfort of the educated and professional classes in India, the social group that would lead the nationalist struggle later. However, those outside of this middle-class professional group became 4 This act of resistance is known by different names: The Great Revolt, The Revolt of 1857 and the Mutiny. This often reflects the political standpoint of the writer. 5 ‘By the 1880s, the total number of English-educated Indians was approaching the 50,000 mark’ (Sarkar, 1983: 65).

36

Performing Representation

increasingly critical of INC’s lassitude in the face of growing demands for greater representation of Indian interests in the governance of the country. This group came to be known as ‘the Extremists’; it was led by Bal Gangadhar Tilak, Lala Lajpat Rai, and Aurobindo Ghosh and it captured the imaginations of those growing discontented in the country on account of famines and aggressive excise duties that were affecting the everyday lives of the people. The rise of the vernacular press also helped their cause as they could circulate their ideas more easily. Through the use of ‘religious orthodoxy as a method of mass contact’ (Sarkar, 1983: 99), for example, in the mobilization against the Age of Consent Bill and by organizing the Ganapati Festival in Bombay, the Extremists challenged the Moderate’s Anglophilia and even tried to organize the first boycott movement against cotton excise charges. The biggest challenge to this growing nationalist grouping was, as noted above, the partition of Bengal in 1905, under the administration of Lord Curzon. This was seen as a measure to divide and rule, which seemed to be corroborated by the British Home Secretary H. H. Risley: ‘Bengal united is a power; Bengal divided will pull in several different ways. That is … one of the merits of the scheme’ (in Sarkar, 1983: 107). Far from dividing the people, it was seen as an insult to the country and brought different political groups together. Even the Moderates were disgusted by this partition and this led to the first Swadeshi movement (1905–8), with a boycott of British goods at its heart. However, the British continued with their divide and rule policies by suggesting that a divided Bengal would result in more jobs for Muslims, which turned middle-class Muslims against the movement. During this period we also see the rise of a terrorist movement against British rule. The strains and struggles had a deleterious effect on the Congress, which split between Moderates and Extremists in April 1908, with the Moderates hoping that with Liberals in power in Britain, political reforms in India would follow—which they did in the shape of the Minto–Morley Reforms of 1909. The struggle for representation of Indian interests thus took varied forms and only slowly began to involve women. The Minto–Morley Reforms (officially Indian Councils Act) introduced an electoral system that allowed Indians to be elected to legislative councils instead of being appointed by the British government. But also acknowledged politically was the demand for separate electorates for Muslims. Out of the 27 elected seats in the Imperial Council, 8 were reserved for Muslims; the income qualifications for Muslims were also lower than for Hindus (Sarkar, 1983: 140). The conservatism of

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

37

the reforms was also reflected in Minto’s speech in Udaipur when he emphasized ‘the principle of non-interference in the internal affairs of Native States’ (Sarkar, 1983: 139). These reforms were an acknowledgement that repression of a growing anti-British movement alone would not do; that the question of representation of Indians in Indian political institutions needed to be addressed. Although the Legislative Councils Act introduced a severely restricted electorate, in doing so, it arguably laid the foundation of the parliamentary system in India. While Morley famously declared that ‘if it could be said that this chapter of reforms led directly or indirectly to the establishment of a parliamentary system in India, I for one would have nothing at all to do with it’ (cited in Nussbaum et al., 2003: 20), the formation of the councils was a first step in the long journey towards representation and independence. Thus by the eve of the First World War Indians were sitting on a whole series of legislatures, had some token presence within the executive, could debate budget issues, and local and self-governing bodies could elect members as representatives of municipal interests (Brown, 1999; Raychaudhuri, 1999). By the time of the First World War, as Nehru commented, ‘The National Congress … met once a year and passed some academic resolutions and did nothing else. Nationalism was at a low ebb’ (1999: 623). The status of Indian women was important to the discursive and political mobilization of Indian nationalism for two reasons; first, as Sangari and Vaid (1989) have argued, both the British and the Indian nationalists used the imaginary of Indian women, and the notion of Indian tradition in relation, to gender to shape and contain political and cultural change. While the British justified their rule in terms of rescuing the Indian woman from the depredations of Indian traditions, what Spivak has called ‘saving brown women from brown men’ (1988), the nationalists challenged this portrayal by framing the status of Indian women within the trope of decline or distortions of the real Indian traditions; the nation itself was conceived of as a woman—as Mother India. The bodies of women were the terrain of political competition for both colonialists and nationalists. The recovery of the idea of ‘Bharat’—of India—as a historically stable political entity was a continuing nationalist preoccupation as a means of making a claim to the idea of a nation state. As Jha has pointed out: It was only from the 1860s that the name Bharatavarsha, in the sense of the whole subcontinent, found its way into the popular vocabulary. Its visual evocation came perhaps not earlier than 1905 in a painting by Abanindranath Tagore, who conceived of the image as one of Bangamata

38

Performing Representation

[mother of Bengal] but later, almost as an act of generosity towards the larger cause of Indian nationalism, decided to title it ‘Bharatmata’ [Mother India, see Figure 1.2]. (D. N. Jha, 2006: 6)

It was not just male colonialists or nationalists who presented women in positions of dependence; Antoinette Burton has suggested that feminist writing in particular depicted Indian women as ‘enslaved, degraded and in need of salvation’ (Liddle and Rai, 1998). Ramusack has called Western women with this approach ‘maternal imperialists’. Some of these feminists, such as the American traveller Katherine Mayo, supported Indian nationalism, but as Jayawardena has noted, ‘they saw Indian women as their special burden, and saw themselves as the agents of progress and civilisation’ (Liddle and Rai, 1998: 499). Katherine Mayo published her book Mother India in 1927 attacking Indian cultural practices such as child marriage and suggesting that educated Indians did nothing about these practices except to ‘curse the one power which, however little to their liking, is doing practically all of whatever is done for the comfort of sad old Mother India’ (cited in Liddle and Rai, 1998: 503). The impact of this attack on India’s culture was directly political. It was in 1927 that the British government appointed the Simon Commission to investigate Indian demands for self-government. The publication of Mayo’s book was regarded as a vindication of British rule. As a reviewer in the New Statesman wrote: All who know anything of India are aware … of the prime evils of Hinduism, of the horrors of the child marriage system, of the universality of sexual vice in its most extravagant forms … of the filthy personal habits of even the most highly educated classes—which, like the degradation of Hindu women, are unequalled even amongst the most primitive African or Australian savages … Miss Mayo makes the claim for Swaraj [self-rule] seem nonsense, and the will to grant it almost a crime. (Cited in Liddle and Rai, 1998: 502)

This narrative was retained despite the growing evidence of women’s mobilization in India. As early as the late nineteenth century, middleclass women began to organize social groups and organizations to address issues of social reform. Swarnakumari Devi, sister of the poet Rabindranath Tagore, ‘formed the Ladies Society in Calcutta in 1882 for educating and imparting skills to widows and other poor women to make them economically self reliant. She edited a women’s journal, Bharati, thus earning herself the distinction of being the first Indian woman editor. In the same year, Ramabai Saraswati formed the Arya Mahila

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

Figure 1.2

39

Bharatmata by Abanindranath Tagore

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bharat_Mata_ (Abanindranath).

Samaj in Pune’ (Aparna Basu, n.d.: 2). Bharat Mahila Parishad was the women’s wing of INC and was inaugurated in 1905. Social reform was thus the first political impulse for women organizing women. Leaders of the Indian women’s movement such as Sarojini Naidu or Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya, predominantly from the middle class, but from all the regions and religions of India, explicitly rejected both oppressive patriarchal social practices and the image of women as helpless victims. In 1927 the All India Women’s Conference (AIWC) was set up; the Women’s Indian Association had been established in 1917 when Indian women had first demanded the vote (Liddle and Rai, 1998: 500–1). The passive wait of Indian women, outlined in Katherine Mayo’s book, to be rescued by Western civilizing influence thus seems rather at odds with the evidence of gender politics on the ground. The Minto–Morley reforms pleased neither the conservatives in Britain nor the nationalists in India. However, it was because of these reforms that there arose a need for a Central Assembly (Metcalf, 1989). The building of the capital New Delhi, the Government House, and the Secretariats was well under way—new spaces and buildings had to be made to house these representatives in the central legislature.

State Architecture of New Delhi At the Durbar in Delhi in 1911, King George V had declared, ‘We are pleased to announce to Our People that on the advice of Our Ministers tendered after consultation with Our Governor-General in Council, We have decided upon the transfer of the seat of the Government of India from Calcutta to the ancient Capital of Delhi’ (in Sonne, 2003: 201).

40

Performing Representation

That King George V was able to announce the moving of the British centre of power from Calcutta, and the establishment of a new capital in Delhi, is itself symbolic of the consolidation of colonial power. Place and space thus matters (Goodsell, 1988; Dovey, 1999; Manow, 2010; Parkinson, 2010; Puwar, 2010); not only in a functionalist sense—its appropriateness in terms of governance, for example—or even in its reflection of the culture in which parliaments are embedded (Goodsell, 1988), but in terms of the re-presentation of statehood, sovereignty, and legitimacy.6 The opposition to this move was considerable, as evidenced by the attempted assassination of Viceroy Lord Hardinge on 23 December 1912 by the revolutionary underground movement in Bengal headed by Rashbehari Bose. A homemade bomb was thrown into the viceroys’s howdah when his ceremonial procession moved through Delhi. Despite avowals to the contrary, sentimentality and historic continuity had a place in this decision to move the capital to Delhi; the idea was to materialize the new phase of British rule in India by sweeping away the chaos of Calcutta and constructing an entirely new capital in the ancient seat of Indian rulers, not through preserving that earlier history but through the marking of new spaces by an imperial architectural form. At the heart of this endeavour was the seat of colonial government—the Government House or the Viceregal Lodge. Echoing Aristotle, the site of this seat of power was elevated—Raisina Hill was to be the podium of British power in India. Lord Hardinge, the viceroy who oversaw the building of New Delhi and its public buildings and who would be the first inhabitant of Government House, was clear in his ambitions for it: I can picture to myself the approach to Government House from the plain below with terraces and gardens and fountains along the hillside that should be a reproduction in miniature of Versailles and its gardens. Such a position would appeal greatly to the Indians who would be able 6

As Cannadine argues in the context of the rebuilding of the palace of Westminster: The image of the British nation, constitution and society that the new building [of the British Parliament] set in stone was more concerned with stability and order than strife and dissent, and with tradition and continuity than progress and change … So, one of the architect’s prime concerns was to create a palace that would enhance the position and assert the prestige of the monarch vis-á-vis the Lords, the Commons and the people. (2000: 14, 15)

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

41

to point to it from miles away as the residence of the Lord Saheb.7 (In Sonne, 2003: 208)

While the building was to be architecturally classical, Indian motifs were to be incorporated into its decoration as a nod towards Indian taste. The power and the glory of British rule would then find resonance with the Indian masses. The architect of this project was Edwin Landseer Lutyens, with an imperialist politics and modernist sensibility.8 Lutyens was appointed the architect of New Delhi after considerable lobbying and in part because he was well connected to the British establishment through his wife, who was the daughter of Lord Lytton, the viceroy of India between 1876 and 1880. Privilege was attached to this building project from the start. Lutyens, to avoid an open competition for the post of chief architect, invited his friend Herbert Baker, who had designed the government buildings in Pretoria, South Africa, to join him as co-architect. Lutyens was responsible for the layout of New Delhi and for the design of Government House, while Baker was to design the Secretariat buildings that flank Government House. As Herbert Baker commented on the architecture that was to mark this new capital, it was to be ‘expressive of Britain’s Imperial mission. It must not be Indian, nor English, nor Roman, but must be an Imperial Lutyens’s tradition in Indian architecture’ (cited in Singh and Mukherjee, 2009: 112). What is noticeable in New Delhi is the pre-eminence of one building, the Government House atop Raisina Hill, as symbolizing the power of British imperial rule in India—from where the viceroy would govern with the help of a huge colonial bureaucracy and, until the commissioning of the Parliament building, with the complicity of the Indian princes who found representation in an advisory council. The growing discontent among the people and its mobilization by the increasingly radical wing of the Congress, led by Tilak and Rai, led to further institutional response by the British in the form of the Montagu–Chelmsford Reforms, which we discuss later.

7

The reference to Versailles was rather unfortunate, given the fall of the monarchy in France! The hubris reflected here was to tumble in 1947. 8 For accounts of the struggles over architectural styles and reputations, political debates on sites and spaces, and financial costs see J. Ridley’s biography, Edwin Lutyens (2002), Architecture and Personalities by Herbert Baker (1944), and The Triumph of Modernism (2007) by Partha Mitter.

42

Performing Representation

The Nationalist Movement and the Montagu–Chelmsford Reforms In response to the growing democratic struggles in India, the Montagu– Chelmsford Reforms (the Government of India Act of 1919) was introduced; this built on the Minto–Morley reforms initiated in 1909. The Act provided for a Central Legislature and bicameral system with two houses—the Council of State and the Indian Legislative Assembly. The Central Legislature was empowered to enact laws on any matter for the whole of India. However, the governor general retained the powers to summon, prorogue, dissolve the Chambers, and to promulgate Ordinances. Unicameral Provincial Legislative councils were also introduced, with a system of diarchy with subjects reserved for the Crown and the new legislative councils. ‘Seventy per cent of the members in the provincial and legislative councils now came to be elected by less than 3 per cent of the Indian population, comprising mainly propertied males … Women and the so-called “depressed” classes were clearly disadvantaged in the matter of representation’ (Jayal, 2001: 21; see also Chiriyankandath, 1992). As Basu has noted, ‘In the inter war years, between 1917 and 1945, there were two main issues that the women’s movement took up— political rights for women and reform of personal laws’ (Aparna Basu, n.d.: 3). The Women’s Indian Association (WIA) was founded in 1917 by Annie Besant, Margaret Cousins, and Dorothy Jinarajadasa, ‘all three Irish women Theosophists, who had been suffragettes in their own country. They were joined by Malati Patwardhan, Ammu Swaminathan, Mrs. Dadabhoy and Mrs. Ambujammal. WIA was … the first all India women’s association with the clear objective of securing voting rights for women’ (Aparna Basu, n.d.: 3). A memorandum signed by 23 women from different parts of the country demanding votes for women on the same terms as men which would enable them to have a say in political matters was submitted to Montague and Chelmsford. Sarojini Naidu led a delegation of women to England to meet the secretary of state for India in 1917 to demand franchise for women; the demand was ignored in the secretary of state’s report and rejected in the subsequent franchise report, and also excluded from the 1919 Government of India Act. It did, however, allow future Indian provincial legislatures to grant or refuse the franchise to women; many did, making it possible within a short span of time for women to be represented, in however limited a manner, on par with men. In

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

43

the elections held in 1926, Kamaladevi Chattopadhyaya stood for the Madras Legislative Council elections from Mangalore but was defeated by a narrow margin (Nanda, 2002: 25 in Aparna Basu, n.d.).

Building the Council House The reforms opened the way for 8.6 million voters to vote on the basis of separate electorates for Muslims and Sikhs. The bicameral system had two houses: (a) an upper house, the Council of States, consisting of 60 members and (b) a lower house, the Central Legislative Assembly, consisting of 145 members. It was at this point that it became clear that a national legislative assembly would be needed to house the representatives. The building of New Delhi and of the Viceroy’s House was already underway. The Council House was allotted a space on the side of the buildings that housed the administrative wings of government, further down Raisina Hill. Sir Edwin Lutyens and Sir Herbert Baker, already the architects designing the Viceroy’s House and the North and South Blocks respectively, were commissioned to build the Council House, the foundation stone for which was laid on 12 February 1921 by HRH The Duke of Connaught. The building was completed and was opened for business by Lord Irving in 1927, a mere 20 years before the British quit India. The original plan was for a consultative chamber inside Government House, where six advisers of the viceroy would meet with him. It was only because of the Montague–Chelmsford Reforms that there arose a need for a Central Assembly (Metcalf, 1989): The Legislative Buildings at Delhi, the foundation stone of which was laid by the Duke of Connaught today, will be symbolical of the rapidity and extent of constitutional progress in India. When the new Delhi was designed it was intended to incorporate the Council Hall in the Viceregal Lodge. Now such an idea is recognized as being grotesquely inadequate. (The Times, London, 12 February 1921, cited in Singh and Mukherjee, 2009: 140)9

The design of Parliament reflected the desires of the British state to contain within close political boundaries the growing demands for change; however, ‘it is doubly symbolical. It emphasizes the substantial character of the representative institutions now conferred upon India, 9

For images of the construction, see Kapoor, 2011.

44

Performing Representation

also the essential unity of the three estates represented by the Princes’ Council, the State Council … and the Legislative Assembly’ (Singh and Mukherjee, 2009: 140). It was precisely this ‘essential unity’ that the nationalist movement was challenging. ‘The mission of the architect, [Baker] believed was to give expression to Britain’s national ideals; to provide a framework of architectural order analogous to the law and order provided by colonial rule. In India, Baker was essentially an Orientalist, imposing a Western framework upon native skills’ (Ridley, 1998: 77). Baker had featured a similar approach in his building in Pretoria. The Parliament was built entirely with Indian labour—builders, stonemasons, gardeners, and painters. Indian contractors such as Sir Sobha Singh managed this labour (Singh, 2009). The Dholpur stone for the buildings was quarried in Rajasthan, and was the same as that used in the Agra Fort. Four hundred million bricks were made for the building in the brick kilns of south Delhi. The Council House also included a conference hall called the ‘Princes Chamber’ for the meetings of the rulers of the various princely states; ‘on wooden panelling of the hall there were 102 emblems of the States’. Despite Lutyens and Baker’s contempt for Indian architecture, the palimpsest of Mughal India can be seen used in many different ways in the modernist buildings of New Delhi. The Times reported on the state opening of Parliament 17 on January 1927: ‘The great Council House or Parliament House [is] built on a pattern resembling that of the Coliseum. Massive columns encircle the building on the first floor and form a finely proportioned balcony’ (Singh, 2009: 12). When completed, Parliament House was enormous—with a ‘circular edifice 560 feet (170.69 metres) in diameter. Its circumference is one-third of a mile (536.33 metres) and it covers an area of nearly six acres (24281.16 square metres) … The building has twelve gates’ (see Figure 1.3). Not all, however, saw this as a triumph for Baker’s design: ‘The Council Chamber has been Sir Herbert’s unhappiest venture … It resembles a Spanish bull-ring, lying like a mill-wheel dropped accidentally on its side’ (Byron, 1931). The Times of India dubbed it as ‘The Council House at New Delhi: Pavlova in India’. As if the history of its tentative political place, as well as architectural form, was an embarrassment, the building was hardly visible from Rajpath (previously Kingsway) that lead to the majestic Viceregal Lodge (later Rashtrapati Bhavan). Inscriptions and portraits adorned this building, some rather provocative, even to Lord Hardinge. One read:

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

Figure 1.3

45

Outer Corridor, Indian Parliament

Source: Parliamentary Archives.

Liberty will not descend to a people; A people must raise themselves to liberty; It is a blessing which must be earned before it can be enjoyed.10

‘I think an art begins where words fail it’, Hardinge wrote (Khilnani, 2003: 59). The Central Hall of Parliament was decorated with 12 gilded emblems representing the provinces of undivided India.11 The Doric columns, the wide corridors, and the high ceilings that make up this building, especially its predominant and domed Central Hall, are truly impressive and provide a grand setting for the business of Parliament. The two chambers in the Indian Parliament reflect, but are not a replica of, the two chambers in Westminster. The red and green members’ benches of the Rajya Sabha (the upper house) and Lok Sabha (the lower house) are instantly recognizable as mirroring the colours of Westminster. ‘Semicircular chambers [in] the continental model were decreed, as a rectangular House encouraged a two-party Government, which with religious division might be undesirable’ (Baker, 1944: 17). What does this design tell us about the role of the Indian Parliament as conceived at the time of its building? Several arguments have been put forward towards explaining the seating arrangements in parliaments; functional—that a semicircle is better for acoustics; cultural—that the adversarial political cultures have government and opposition facing each other as in the British Parliament, while where politics is more concordant we see a semicircular design (Goodsell, 1988); and finally, political—that authority of the monarch is best represented by ‘rectangle seating’, while after the French Revolution the modern secular parliaments chose to show political unity in the ‘body politic’ 10 11

Attributed to Charles Caleb Colton, 1780–1832. http://www.parliamentofindia.nic.in/ls/intro/p25.htm.

46

Performing Representation

through semicircular seating (Manow, 2010). While Manow emphasizes the imprint of the colonial powers in the parliaments of the colonies (the Commonwealth), his inquiry remains limited by a perspective that is based on European historical and political debates. While Parkinson cautions us against such readings of the design of the chamber (2012), he does not take into account a postcolonial reading of the nature of the politics of the Chamber’s design. If adversarial politics defines Westminster’s Chambers where a sword length separates the two adversarial sides in a political context, and if the colonial parliament is structured as a horseshoe, was this done to reflect what the colonial rulers saw as a weaker, less robust mode of representative politics? Facing the speaker or chairman of the lower and upper houses, the representatives could be seen either as appellants or as consultants—but not as political adversaries. Of course, this story was a rapidly changing one—from the Montague–Chelmsford reforms in 1919 to the Quit India Movement in 1942 and then to the partition of the country and its independence in 1947 it was a mere 28 years. As the costs escalated, the press, both in India as well as in Britain, wondered whether the new capital was too expensive, and whether due care was being taken to keep costs down. Accountability of the government and the architects was tested by the press. On 8 December 1923, Lutyens had to write a public letter in the Morning Post rebutting charges of extravagant expenditure. The loftiness of the buildings was not an extravagance, the two architects argued, but necessities in the Indian conditions—high domes and ceilings offset the heat, but these created issues of audibility in the Chambers, which needed the latest in acoustic technology as well as traditional ways of keeping the sound on the ground through wood panelling (The Times, 17 May 1927, in Singh, 2009: 154). Similarly, it was the issue of costs that defeated Lutyens in his attempts to repair his mistake which made Government House disappear above the brow of Raisina Hill; the viceroy did not budge as concerns about costs of building the new capital were aired repeatedly in the British and Indian press. Thus, the conflicting impulses that were foundational for the Parliament and the form it took architecturally, constitute a part of the same story.12 As the nationalist struggle for representation gained 12 Conflict also marked the relationship between Lutyens and Baker as they fell out over the gradient of the Raisina Hill, the disappearing view of the Government House, and the predominant position of the Secretariat (Ridley, 2002).

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

47

momentum, it ranged widely to include in its ambit changes in the law, identity representation, institutional politics, and political aesthetics of the nation.

The Government of India Act of 1935: The Space and Symbols of Legislative Politics The dissatisfaction with the Montagu–Chelmsford reforms and with the Simon Report escalated the tempo of the nationalist movement. The Jalianwalla Bagh massacre, the Satyagraha movement led by Gandhi, the mass mobilizations of the Non-Cooperation Movement, followed by the Civil Disobedience Movement generated an irresistible momentum for independence. However, the Gandhi–Irwin Pact of 1931 led to withdrawal of the Non-Cooperation Movement and the participation of the Congress in the Round Table Conference that would discuss a scheme for a constitution for India, incorporating the ‘federalism’ based on the inclusion of princely states and the safeguarding of interests of minorities through reservations in political institutions. The failure of the Round Table Conference led to Gandhi’s arrest, increase in state repression, and the eventual withdrawal of the Civil Disobedience Movement. The Government of India Act of 1935 introduced quotas for a range of minorities and a series of separate electorates for differing religious communities to ensure their presence within the legislatures. Communal tensions grew during this period as the Muslim League and the Hindu Mahasabha sought to increase their influence to take advantage of the new institutional politics of separate electorates. The Act also increased the number of enfranchised women and removed some of the previous qualifications to gain franchise. All women over 21 could vote provided they fulfilled the qualification of property and education. Women had to wait until after independence to get universal adult franchise (Aparna Basu, n.d.: 4). Nehru wrote movingly after the first elections under the Government of India Act of 1935, when all the major nationalist parties participated in elections and formed provincial governments, of the reaction of the people: They were interested in everything; they went into the Assembly Chamber … into the Ministers’ rooms. It was difficult to stop them for they no longer felt as outsiders; they had a sense of ownership in all this although it was all very complicated for them and difficult to understand. (Nehru, cited in Jayal, 2001: 22)

48

Performing Representation

While acknowledging the affective impact of elections on the ordinary people of India, Nehru also demarcates the political space between them and of the elites, who are the object of recognition and who ‘understand’ the ‘complications’ of politics, and the citizens, who feel but do not necessarily understand. The nationalist struggle for freedom and for democracy also mobilized other aesthetic objects—flags were an important part of the symbolic politics of nationalist India. ‘The evolution of the Indian National Flag reflects the political developments in the country during the twentieth century’ (Government of India, 1963: 1). As Virmani has argued, ‘the flag’s graduation … to a level of national familiarity required a mobilization of cultural meanings, practices, codes and colours borrowed from international conventions … but reworked through Indian cultural traditions’ (2008: 7). Ceremony and ritual attended the furling and unfurling of flags, which in turn demarcated the spaces of rebellion and later of nationhood.13 Attention to such emotional and affective mobilizations helps us understand their material—place, architecture, fabric—and political importance, often overlooked in political science literature. Political mobilizations, and the ceremonies and rituals attached to these, also, of course, throw into relief the bodies that occupy spaces and places, some centrally and other peripherally, and some that are excluded completely.

The Transfer of Power and the Indigenizing of Parliament Until the independence of the country in 1947, the somatic norm in the legislative institutions remained largely male, white, and colonial; bodies that represented the aspirations of an Indian nation remained outside of these spaces of power. Then the portals of Lutyens’s Delhi were pushed open by the nationalist movement and allowed in the new elites of independent India, who set about to not only simply occupy but also indigenize these old imperial spaces with new art and artefacts—statues and artwork, new rules, procedures, and norms framing different spectacles of political power and of nation-building that preoccupied the nationalist government and its leaders.14 The changing social and 13

For a comic take on the importance of flags to politics see Eddie Izard, ‘Do You Have a Flag?’, available at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=UTduy7Qkvk8. 14 Some of the struggles for expressing the new nation as it took shape can be read off the murals, portraits, and statues that were commissioned for Parliament. See Rai (2014a).

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

49

political relations in independent India found spatial reflection within its representative building, as new ‘space invaders’ (Puwar, 2004) made demands for different visual representation through portraits and statues of different bodies and symbols. The transfer of power on 15 August 1947 from British to Indian hands took place in the Central Hall of Parliament, where ‘as the midnight hour struck’15 on 14 August 1947, Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first prime minister made his iconic speech on India’s ‘tryst with destiny’ wherein he set out the major themes that were to guide the project of nation-building and reached out for the spatial metaphor to convey this new nation: Before the birth of freedom, we have endured all the pains of labour and our hearts are heavy with the memory of this sorrow … Nevertheless, the past is over and it is the future that beckons us now … [Our] dreams are for India, but they are also for the world, for all the nations and peoples are too closely knit together today for any one of them to imagine that it can live apart … We have to build the noble mansion of free India where all her children may dwell.16

It was also the site where the Indian Constitution was framed under the guidance and stewardship of Dr B. R. Ambedkar, a Dalit a lawyer and a nationalist, who left a lasting legacy for Indian political life.17 There was no question of building a new Parliament for independent India—the Westminster model of political representation as well as New Delhi as the seat of government were accepted as given; the pact for the transition to independence and the grand buildings of New Delhi ensured that. The nationalist government then could not be defined through architecture. Free India’s National Flag was hoisted atop the Council House, which now truly became the Parliament, and the cheer that went up was like a hundred-gun salute.18 Mrs Hansa Mehta presented the National Flag to the Constituent Assembly on behalf of the women of India. As part of her speech, she said about Indian women, ‘We have donned the 15

Guha writes that secular India’s leaders chose to mark Independence after consulting for auspicious omens with Hindu priests (p. 5). 16 Available at http://nehrumemorial.nic.in/en/gift-gallery.html?id=214& tmpl=component, last accessed on 29 May 2018. 17 The Hall was refurbished for the sitting of the Constituent Assembly, which met there from 9 December 1946 to 24 January 1950. 18 See https://www.news18.com/news/india/live-blog-from-1947-498602. html, last accessed on 1 January 2013.

50

Performing Representation

saffron colour, we have fought, suffered and sacrificed in the cause of our country’s freedom. We have today attained our goal. In presenting this symbol of our freedom, we once more offer our services to the nation.’19 This seemed to bring closure to the nationalist angst about the lack of a flag: ‘I have suffered the most terrible moments of anguish in free countries, because India possessed no flag’, lamented Sarojini Naidu in the Constituent Assembly (in Virmani, 2008: 1). A short film of 15 August 1947 show Indians milling inside the Parliament complex—citizens on cycles, ‘watching in amazement and curiosity, as imposing iron gates were thrown open to all. Of course, a few decades later, as the caption records, the “iron gates would close again on the general public and the area would be declared a high-security ‘VIP’ zone”’(Chishti, 2009). The gradual securitization of the parliamentary precinct has now become accepted—citizens have been kept at a distance or under strict regulation. Spatial awareness of political changes, therefore, cannot be peeled away from one another—changes take place within and through the materiality of space, of buildings and their decorations, of who inhabits these and how these are used and how messages about identity, representation, and relations between the state and its citizenship are given and are received. The gendered politics of Parliament also takes spatial forms.

The State, Parliament, and Gendered Narratives With India’s independence the question ‘how can the colonial architecture be made to work for the new nation?’ must have arisen. How could the new political elites wrest from the colonial elites not only the right to rule but also the right to reconfigure the spaces demarcated under colonial dispensation? How, in short, could colonial spaces be re-marked with postcolonial signifiers—what changes could and needed to be made to mark this space as ‘Indian’? Manow has argued, ‘This imagining and invention of the nation did not take place ex nihilo; it converted for its use the available reservoir of symbols, ideas and metaphors’ (2010: 40). This took shape in India through elite nationalist translations. Through images, symbols, and performances, colonial spaces were indigenized, histories appropriated, and futures imagined, even as these constructions of the nation remained fragile, contested, and evanescent.

19

See https://www.news18.com/news/india/live-blog-from-1947-498602. html, last accessed on 13 April 2018.

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

51

In terms of the constitution that was drawn up and the institutional modalities, India’s political elite was also committed to inheriting a British political system, essentially premised on Westminster, and the idiosyncrasies of ‘independent’ representation, as opposed to mandated and referenda-based decision-making (see ‘Introduction’; see also Austin, 1999 and Jayal, 2006b). Despite arguments that such a system was inappropriate for an ethnically diverse country marked by significant degrees of social, cultural, and religious differences (Rueschemeyer, Stephens, and Stephens, 1992), debates on proportional representation and local government initiatives were sidelined in favour of a first-pastthe-post electoral system familiar in Westminster (Austin, 1999). The Indian constitution moderated British parliamentarianism only with reference to affirmative action for specifically identified social groups deemed to have been materially disadvantaged to a degree that would act as a barrier to entering Parliament. The discrimination was applied to manipulate parliamentary representation to promote ‘effective equality’ and was initially perceived as a temporary measure (Brass, 1994). Articles 330, 332, and 334 of the Indian Constitution enable reservation of seats for Dalits (Scheduled Classes [SC]) and tribal communities (STs) in the union and state legislatures, in direct proportion to the population of these groups (Sitapati, 2016). At the same time, the history of the nationalist movement, and of the partition of the country, meant that the provisions for reservations for the Dalits were not extended to Muslims and other minorities, which arguably consolidated substantial inequities of representation (Sachar Committee Report, 2006).

Citizenship and Gendered Narratives of Equality The national movement was an important mobilizer of women; Gandhi’s contribution in bringing women into politics is also well documented (Kumar, 1993; Nanda, 1990). The politics of the national movement, and of the communist movement, was such that the separatist argument for women’s mobilization was not considered appropriate by nationalist women. At the same time the mainstream nationalist and socialist parties did provide a mechanism for mobilizing women by constituting ‘women’s organizations’ under the umbrella and control of the party—the All-India Mahila (Women’s) Congress (under INC), the National Federation of Indian Women (NFIW, under Communist Party of India [CPI]), and later the Mahila

52

Performing Representation

Morcha of BJP. Before Independence, while ‘differing streams within the anti-imperialist struggle posited different, even contentious images of identities for women … the nationalist consensus symbolized in the Fundamental Rights Resolution of INC, 1931, postulated freedom, justice, dignity and equality for women as essential for nation-building’ (Agnihotri and Mazumdar, 1995: 1869). The Indian women’s movements supported this project through advancing critiques of mainstream debates on citizenship, law, and state practice, while at the same time stopping short of demanding special measures for women. This allowed gendered political practices to be challenged but not necessarily to be transformed to incorporate the critiques put forward by the women’s groups. While there was discussion of quotas for women in the Constituent Assembly, this was rejected by women members representing the AIWC as demeaning for women struggling for equality with men in all spheres of life. At the same time, while social reform was considered a priority by all postcolonial elites, it was also emphasized that the ‘essential distinction between the social roles of men and women in terms of material and spiritual virtues must at all times be maintained’ (Chatterjee, 1993: 243). This produced tensions of modernity that are visible in the Constitution of India, for example, in the personal laws that undermined the aspirations of equality. As Rai has argued elsewhere, these tensions are also visually inscribed in the murals that decorate the Parliament—the figures chosen to represent Indian women sit well and comfortably in the nationalist discourse of postcolonial modernity (2014a).20 They challenge the constructed traditions that were so effectively used to legitimize colonial subjection during British rule. Far from being oppressed and awaiting rescue, Indian women are shown in these murals to be defenders of family and kingdom as in Rani Jhansi (Panel 59), educated and creative and leading a life outside the traditional family norm as in the poet Meera (Panel 63), and participating in public debates such as the philosophers Gargi and Maitrayee (Panel 6). The women in these murals stand in for the Indian political elite’s capture of the discourse of gender equality without disturbing gendered social relations—another representation of what Sanjay Joshi has called ‘fractured modernity’ (2001). 20

To view many of the murals, see http://164.100.47.194/our%20parliament/Paintings%20in%20Parliament%20House.pdf, last accessed on 18 April 2018.

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

53

The contradictory impulses of the nationalist leadership regarding the place of women in politics also found spatial form in the new Parliament. One of the changes to the spaces surrounding the Central Hall related to how its six lobbies would be used. These were suitably covered and furnished, and of the six, one was reserved for the exclusive use of ‘lady Members’. Here, we find all the accoutrements of a genteel existence that ladies require—a place of calm and of rest, with comfortable sofas and a dressing table at which to touch up the face before sallying forth into the world of men that lies just beyond. Not visible, but also present, are the day beds on which to take a siesta after lunch, and a kettle for making tea and white cups and saucers embossed with the Parliament’s emblem. When women first entered Parliament this was a busy room—to be in the ‘other spaces’ of Central Hall was not considered appropriate unless one’s presence was necessary for an official engagement. Men occupied the Central Hall—they sat there to talk, to network, and to have their lunch. As the composition of Parliament changed over time—more women, younger women, more assertive women became visible within the parliamentary precincts, and the Ladies’ Room fell into disuse (see Figure 1.4). Today, it looks rather forlorn and dusty, with no evidence of occupancy during the session. Now, both women and men congregate and network in the Central Hall (see also Chapter 9). This challenge to the institutional mores of the dominant gender did not happen

Figure 1.4

The Ladies’ Room in Lok Sabha

Source: Parliamentary archives.

54

Performing Representation

suddenly—it happened slowly but surely over many years. Churchill remarked that we shape buildings and then buildings shape us; here we can also see the opposite. In this case, the ritual was not created (it was suggested through the presence of a gendered space); but through an interaction between what has been and is then negotiated, over a period of time and struggle, women in Parliament arrived at, as Goffman would put it, a different way of being in the parliamentary space, and they have resisted the suggestion of separation. Undermining what was presented as a gendered space through non-use is a powerful way of creating new social mores and everyday rituals and resisting earlier ones. If the buildings and symbols of and in Parliament reflect the new politics, parliamentary structures were also of course critical to the working of democracy of independent India.

Parliamentary Structures and Institutions of Independent India Familiarity with the procedures of legislative governance under British rule meant that the parliamentary system was retained almost in its entirety in postcolonial India. An elected president heads the Indian state and also opens the formal parliamentary year. Article 87(1) of the Constitution states: At the commencement of the first session after each general election to the House of the People and at the commencement of the first session of each year the president shall address both Houses of Parliament assembled together and inform Parliament of the causes of its summons.21

No other business is transacted until the president has addressed the joint session of Parliament. Unlike the Westminster Parliament, there are no theatrical summons for the presidential address—no Black Rod knocks on the door that has been slammed in her face!22 There is a simple Parliamentary Bulletin notice circulated informing all members of the 21

See https://rajyasabha.nic.in/rsnew/about_parliament/opening_parliament.asp, last accessed on 8 May 2018. 22 Black Rod is a senior officer in the House of Lords in the UK. He or she is responsible for controlling access to and maintaining order within the House and its precincts. At the State Opening of Parliament Black Rod is sent from the Lords Chamber to the Commons Chamber to summon MPs to hear the Queen’s speech. Traditionally the door of the Commons is slammed in Black

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

55

time for the address in Central Hall, where a hierarchy based on party seniority and parliamentary office decides the seating order. Thus the choreography of this state ceremony builds on but also peels away from the Westminster model. For example, the arrival of the president at the Parliament in the State Coach (first used by Mountbatten) to lend grandeur to the event continued until the securitization of Parliament in the wake of the terrorist attack on the 13 December 2001. After that, we see a shift between the use of the coach and the car.23 The president is greeted by the prime minister and the speaker of the Lok Sabha, chairman of the Rajya Sabha, and the secretaries-general of the two houses and led to the Central Hall. The marshal announces the arrival of the president and the members rise and remain standing until the president is seated. A band then plays the national anthem during which everyone remains standing. While the presidential address is supposed to command ‘utmost dignity and decorum’, there have been disruptions during this ‘sacrosanct’ occasion as early as 1963—‘some members had tried to disrupt the President’s address to the two Houses, considered a sacrosanct feature of Parliament. This too was strongly disapproved of by Nehru, who said, “This Parliament is supposed not only to act correctly but lay down certain principles and conventions of decorous behaviour”’ (R. Sen, 2015). As per the Westminster model, the Parliament holds the government to account, makes and revises laws, airs public grievances, and debates important issues for the country. At least that is its constitutional mandate. We have seen the dilution of this role in many phases of Indian political life—from the one-party dominance system under the leadership of Nehru, to Indira Gandhi’s pre-eminence before 1977 to the Modi government. Parliament has not always been able to withstand the pressure from the executive and the presidentialization of politics has increased the tensions between the executive and the legislature. The performance of this tension is as evident in the tame passing of bills presented by the executive as in the committee system that scrutinizes legislation (Rahman, 2008).

Rod’s face to symbolize the Commons’ independence. He or she then bangs three times on the door with the rod. The door to the Commons Chamber is then opened and all MPs—talking loudly—follow Black Rod back to the Lords to hear the Queen’s Speech. See https://www.parliament.uk/about/mps-andlords/principal/black-rod/, last accessed on 18 April 2018. 23 See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmoaDpsiJsc.

56

Performing Representation

As noted in the ‘Introduction’, the Indian Parliament is a bicameral body, with two houses: the Rajya Sabha (the Council of States) has not more than 250 members; 12 of these seats are nominated by the president and the rest are divided among states and elected through proportional representation. The Rajya Sabha is a permanent body, but a third of its members retire every two years. The qualifying age for membership of the Rajya Sabha is 30 years, and the term of each is 6 years. The Rajya Sabha was first constituted on 2 April 1952 and first sat in session on 13 May 1952. The Rajya Sabha has a chairperson who conducts its business. Manmohan Singh is the first Indian prime minister to sit in the Rajya Sabha. The Rajya Sabha has limits to its ability to check and frustrate legislation emanating from the directly elected lower chamber. It cannot vote on a money bill, nor can it filibuster on it, and it is limited as to how many times it can return legislation passed by the Lok Sabha. It can, however, initiate legislation. The Lok Sabha (House of the People) has 552 members; it is made up of representatives elected on a first-past-the-post basis from single-member constituencies.24 The qualifying age for membership of the Lok Sabha is 25 years and the term is of 5 years unless it is dissolved prematurely. Its life can be extended during the period of Proclamation of Emergency by law one year at a time, and for no more than six months after the withdrawal of the Emergency. The first Lok Sabha was constituted after elections in 1952 on 17 April and met on 13 May. Each year Parliament meets for three sessions—the Budget Session (February–March)25, the Monsoon Session (July–August), and the Winter Session (November–December).26 Governments timetable their legislative programmes through the leader of the house, in conjunction with the Cabinet and prime minister’s secretariat, and the Business Advisory Committee. Such programmes reflect manifesto commitments made by the parties as well as the pressures brought to bear by such processes as opposition pressure and initiatives by private member. Under the Constitution the union council of ministers is 24

For the theatre that is the election in India and its importance in the lives of India’s poorest citizens, see Banerjee (2014). 25 Although in 1994 this was divided into two by the establishment of departmentally related standing committees (DRSCs) to review and scrutinize the demands for grants by different ministries/departments and report to the house. 26 For more on details of the functioning of the Lok Sabha, see ‘Our Parliament’, available at http://loksabha.nic.in/.

The Making of Parliament as a Gendered Site of Representation

57

collectively accountable to the Lok Sabha and it has primacy in financial matters. The Indian prime minister is the head of the executive, and his or her position rests on being the head of a political party with the largest number of MPs sitting in the Lok Sabha. The Lok Sabha is made up of representatives elected from single-member constituencies, including the speaker and two nominated members from the Anglo-Indian community (under article 331 of the Constitution). The day-to-day functioning of parliamentary government, the ordering of business, and the finessing of procedures rely on the role of the speaker and the deputy speaker of the house. Indian prime ministers have predominantly been members of INC, but with the onset of coalitions since the 1990s, prime ministers have come from a number of political parties, some quite small. Ultimately, however, governments retain office so long as they can command a working majority (half the membership of the house plus one). In the case of a premature dissolution, the president acts on the advice of the outgoing prime minister, advice from his own office, and, if necessary, the Supreme Court to either reinstate a leader who can command a majority, or call for fresh elections. Presidential discretion—the extent to which prime ministerial advice is binding—has been controversial, especially when the prime minister’s position is insecure (Hewitt and Rai, 2010). The speaker in the Lok Sabha and the chairperson in the Rajya Sabha preside over proceedings and manage the Parliament. There have been two women speakers of consecutive Parliaments—Meira Kumar (2009–14) and Sumitra Mahajan (2014–);Violet Alva (1962–9), Pratibha Patil (1986–8), and Najma Heptulla (1985–6; 1988–2004) have been deputy chairpersons of the Rajya Sabha. Whether this has made any difference to the working of Parliament or not is evaluated later in the book, but it does underline the institutional progress made by women in Parliament.27 It is in this changing Parliament—an organization, a community, and a symbol of India’s democracy—that women MPs, who are the subject of this book, work. This work is both formal (committee memberships, participation in parliamentary debates, constituency welfare) and informal (meeting constituency members, networking within and across party lines, public speaking). In order to understand this work

27

See Armitage, Johnson, and Spary (2014) for a discussion of Meira Kumar’s election as speaker.

58

Performing Representation

and how it affects both the MPs and the citizens’ perceptions of the place of women in politics, in the next chapter we examine how women access Parliament—what different routes they take to get to this ‘temple of democracy’.

2 Pathways to Parliament

1

Of course women should join politics. If good ladies join, we will have less corruption … [women] have better qualities than men. She is less corrupt and has maternal tenderness [mamta]. Today’s woman manages the home as well as outside [sic]. It is women’s nature that even though she is equal to men she lets them think (for their sakes) that she is less than him. This shows her moral high ground [badhapan] rather than her weakness. (MP50, 1 March 20062)

omen have been present in the Indian Parliament from the beginW ning; in the 1st Lok Sabha their presence was minimal, constituting only 5 per cent of MPs (Malik and Kumar, 2012). Twenty-four of the 543 members in India’s first Lok Sabha were women. It was a motley crew that ranged from Vijaya Raje Scindia, the late Rajmata [Queen Mother] of Gwalior, who went on to win eight parliamentary elections to 40-year-old Bonily Khongmen, member of a scheduled tribe in Assam.

1

This chapter is largely based on S. M. Rai’s ‘The Politics of Access: Narratives of Women MPs in the Indian Parliament’, Political Studies, vol. 60, no. 1 (2012): 195–212. 2 In order to maintain the anonymity of our respondents, we have numbered them alphabetically and included the date on which the interview took place. Throughout the book, citations from our interview material will appear in this form. Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0003

60

Performing Representation

Many of them such as Sucheta Kripalani, Amrit Kaur, Maniben Patel (Sardar Patel’s daughter), Uma Nehru, Ammu Swaminathan and Annie Mascarene had been prominent nationalists. Kripalani became the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh and Kaur served as India’s first health minister. But the others—such as Ganga Devi from Lucknow, Indira Anant from Poona South, Anasuyabai Purushottam from Nagpur, and many more—have slid into obscurity. (Katakam and Alluri, 2014)

They came from political families and were also prominent nationalists who made their mark as excellent parliamentarians in their own right. What is fascinating about this first cohort is that it reflects many features of the current group of women parliamentarians—some fiercely ‘political’, others from ‘political families’, and still others picked up for office by party leaderships because of their caste/tribal identities. In addition, familiar were the pressures that these largely elite women faced when joining politics; Sarojini Naidu, for example, was often criticized for neglecting her family for politics, to which she retorted that her public life did not interfere with her responsibility towards her family (Jesudasen, 2006: 48). We have reviewed some of the complex literature arguing for a greater presence of women in political institutions in the Introduction (see also Jonasdottir, 1988; Phillips, 1995; Mansbridge, 1999; Dahlerup, 2005; Lovenduski, 2005; UNRISD, 2005; IDS Bulletin, 2010). This literature suggests that there are at least four reasons for continued insistence on and analysis of greater representation of women in political life: 1. The politics of presence: Without being sufficiently visible, if not proportionately present in the political system—‘threshold representation’ (Kymlicka, 1995b; Phillips, 1995; UNDP, 2005)—a group’s ability to influence either policy-making, or indeed the political culture of institutions, is limited. 2. The politics of institutional practice: ‘The constraints of real political situations affect the capacities of actually existing women politicians and vice versa’ (Lovenduski, 2005: 9); an insistence on removing these constraints is necessary for sustainability of institutional participation. 3. Strategies for accessing politics: The successful strategies that women employ to access and function effectively in political institutions could be useful for others wanting to participate in institutional politics. The problem here is, of course, precisely that political women are an elite group—and might possess characteristics and abilities that

Pathways to Parliament

61

are not widely shared. We can, however, examine whether some strategies, such as sociopolitical movements, open up new spaces where women might transcend their social positioning (Goetz and Hassim, 2003; Amrita Basu, 2005; Gopal Jayal, 2006; Rai, 2007; Kudva and Misra, 2008). 4. Connecting institutional and grassroots politics: How might the strengthening of grassroots politics lead to higher representation of women in Parliament? If not, what can be done to change this? This, after all, was the hope of policy makers when the quota for women in village councils (panchayats) was introduced in 1993 (Rai et al., 2006; Baviskar and Mathew, 2009). This chapter seeks to answer questions of why women chose to enter parliamentary politics, what routes to Parliament they took, how they garnered support for their decision, and how they negotiated the complex public and private terrains to not only access politics but also sustain their participation in political life. The routes to Parliament are not easy for women—from selection by political parties to family and social relations, women have to negotiate carefully in order to become MPs. These negotiations become apparent when we listen closely to the narratives of women MPs who we have interviewed over a period of two decades (Rai, 2012). In this chapter, through a close analysis of interviews and observations of, and secondary research on, women MPs, we were able to identify three overlapping routes women have taken to Parliament: (a) family networks; (b) participation in social and political movements; and (c) membership of political parties. A fourth route is not yet available, but has been under review since 1996: reservations or quotas. As noted in Chapter 1, this ‘fast track’ (Dahlerup and Friedenwall, 2006) route to increased representation available to Indian women in local government continues to be blocked to women at the parliamentary level at present. While discussing these access routes separately, it is important to note that they work together to provide women with networks and support systems—family networks operate within political parties and parties benefit from family resources; participation in social movements is easier for women from political families and often maps onto families’ political histories. However, social movements also open up new spaces for women’s participation in politics without such family support. Similarly, issues of work–life balance can only be addressed through analysing the family as well as parliamentary institutions, but we focus more on this

62

Performing Representation

issue when discussing family and kinship because this is how our interviewees commented on this problem.

Spaces of Narratives Most of our interviews took place in MPs’ homes rather than in their parliamentary offices. There are multiple reasons for this—for nonministerial MPs, the offices are not big, there are constant interruptions, and they might feel more awkward giving an interview that was not only lengthy but also traversed some delicate ground. Their homes were safer grounds and came in all kinds of bands—from small flats for first-time MPs to Lutyens’s bungalows for party leaders. The spatial reflection of status is an important marker of seniority and of political position—the struggles over the prized senior homes are fierce and the scandals about MPs not vacating their bungalows even after vacating their constituencies are often reported in the press.3 Sitting in the beautiful garden of one woman minister, we could understand why she might not wish to leave! There was another party leader who had converted the front grounds of the Lutyens’s bungalow into a tennis court. The bungalows themselves were high ceilinged, quite dark, and simple, but often ornately decorated with objects and pictures from the MPs’ home states or their travels abroad. The smaller flats were ordinary two- or three-bedroom flats. All these spaces were occupied by many different bodies—the MPs in various states of formal and informal dress (one greeted us in her nightgown), secretaries and personal assistants, constituents waiting outside to see the MP, one or many domestic helps, and (sometimes several) family members—all going about their business. And the MPs were gracious hostesses too—endless cups of tea and biscuits and savouries to go with it were offered and insisted upon as the interview progressed. In many bungalows there were annexes built to house the staff with sofas for the constituents—these new additions were not at all in keeping with the style of Lutyens but were functional spaces that allowed for some degree of separation between home and work. The time/timing was another element of these meetings: many times the interviews were done at the edges of their day—early morning or late afternoon or evening, before or after their parliamentary presence was 3

See http://www.telegraphindia.com/1120924/jsp/nation/story_16012044. jsp#.VVaXNst0wcA and http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/363-vipsquatters-evicted-says-centre/article6631186.ece, last accessed on 15 May 2015.

Pathways to Parliament

63

required. The relentless occupation of time by people, house phones, and mobiles—with pings and rings often interrupting the interview— showed the intense pressures under which these women MPs functioned. That they did it as a matter of course, without much fuss or irritation suggested a professionalism that is commendable. However, women MPs also performed gendered roles in these spaces—as one MP said: ‘I might be a party leader outside my home; when I come home I am only a mother, a wife, and a daughter-in-law’ (MP43, 1 February 1994). Indeed, familial language—sister (behan), aunty, and mother (amma, maji)—is repeatedly used by constituents, depending on their class and the age of the MP. In the next section we address the most repeated explanation of women’s entry into political life, the political family, and find that things are more complex than this suggests.

Family Networks ‘Male equivalence’ has been a long-standing and dominant explanatory category for examining women’s access to public life (Currell, 1974)4 as well as a cause for worry about their autonomy. The Nehru family has been a particularly prominent political dynasty, but many MPs are indeed in Parliament because of other family members having preceded them (Chandra, 2016). Indeed, Chandra argues that those who benefit most from dynastic preference are upper-caste Hindu males and suggests that ‘dynastic politics in India is associated with a double form of exclusion; first by creating a birth-based ruling class and second by amplifying the representation of dominant groups within this ruling class’ (2016: 3). However, she further argues that dynastic ties also help improve the representation of members of social categories that are generally marginalized in Indian politics: women, backward castes, Muslims, and youth (Chandra, 2016). In this section we analyse the narratives of women MPs to emphasize the complexity that is often overlooked when ‘the family’ is invoked as the most important factor in women’s access to parliamentary politics.5 4 ‘Biwi [wife] brigade’ and ‘token politicians’ are terms used to emphasize ‘male equivalence’ in public political discourses, especially in the context of debates on reservation for women in Parliament (Karat, 2005). 5 For example, the Nehru–Gandhi family has dominated the Congress party and national politics for over a hundred years, with both women and

64

Performing Representation

‘Out of the 58 women MPs who have made it to the new [2009] House … [a]t least 36 of them—that’s close to a depressing two-thirds—are close relatives of male politicians ranging from national leaders and chief ministers to lower-level politicos like MLAs [members of legislative assembly] and RSS pracharaks’ (Puri, 2009). What remains unexplored in this rhetorical scepticism, and what we can identify by analysing these narratives is how families are important, why other routes into political life remain limited, and what needs to be done to engage political parties such that the gender inequalities within Parliament are addressed. What came through in our interviews is that families support women in different ways—some through employing their political capital, others through helping with everyday housework or childcare or through providing emotional support. The narratives analysed below also suggest that negotiating families is a complicated process which at times demands social nous, determination, and compromise and, therefore, agency of women who become and are able to sustain their role as MPs. In some cases the strength of patriarchal social mores delays the participation of women in political life and even inhibits them in developing a strong public profile. ‘Family support is essential [to the woman], otherwise she is tense and she breaks the family’ (MP31, 1 February 1994). Family continues to be an important factor in routes of women’s access to national politics in India: My father decided to serve in the state government; his parliamentary seat then fell vacant. Because this was my father’s constituency, we could not put up any ABCD … so somebody suggested … first they suggested my brother’s name. He wasn’t interested … he is more artistic. So, someone said why not me; you can say I was the second choice … I was by then divorced. I moved in with my father in 1989 with my two daughters … My father asked me; I wanted to please him. So I said yes. But I had no idea about what would it be like. (MP26, 28 February 2006)

In the 10th Parliament, where our research begins, 43 per cent of women MPs were from ‘political families’, showing the importance of this factor in women’s route to parliamentary politics. This figure did not change in the 14th Parliament. What this shows is that a significant

men benefiting from this family’s political position—Jawaharlal Nehru, Indira Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi were all prime ministers, and today Rajiv Gandhi’s widow Sonia and their son Rahul both hold key positions in the Congress party.

Pathways to Parliament

65

number of women continue to access political life with the support, backing, and contacts of the family—usually of the father or of the husband and that, as a consequence, they are often influenced in their work by the male members of the family. Political parties too are happy to consider familial background in their selection process in the assumption that political families have recognition value—or ‘lineage’ as a male MP explained to us—that will help the woman candidate perform in elections and also as an MP. However, little attention is paid within the literature as to how families are key supports for the everyday functioning and effectiveness of women in politics: My big sister has helped me a lot. Her sons are studying in Delhi and live with me. My daughter was seven months old when I fought my election; my sister was like a mother to her … I have a full time maid, of course, who looks after my baby, but without my sister I couldn’t have managed. (MP32, 1 March 2006)

Husbands can play a key role in supporting women both materially and emotionally and mothers and mothers-in-law seem to play a key role in encouraging and validating the daughter or daughter-in-law’s career in politics by providing practical support in looking after the household: As one MP said, ‘First thing I did was to ask my mother-in-law. She supported me when I worked for the party, even late at night’ (MP39, 6 February 2006). Advising younger women wishing to join politics, one senior BJP MP suggested: After marriage—5–10 years—the woman should stay at home, look after the children, make a place for yourself within your new family; serve the family … this way the woman also gains maturity in ideas and soberness of character. It is very difficult to join politics, to come out to be exposed—she will be able to deal with this; she will be more steady [if she waits]. (MP23, 6 December 2005)

Gender roles within and outside the family are carefully negotiated for continued support of the family—‘so that they don’t feel I am neglecting them for politics’ (MP39, 6 February 2006); social class and political ideologies also mediate these negotiations. Of course the politics of these women affects the gendered negotiations they undertake—we found that right-wing BJP women were more focused on maintaining as well as benefiting from family networks. Support of their natal family at times does not compensate for the demands of their marital roles:

66

Performing Representation

I was the principal of a high school … I was asked to stand for election by the party of my father. I was reluctant to stand because I had two young daughters who needed me. My husband is a judge and I didn’t want his promotion to the Supreme Court to be adversely affected by my joining politics. It was only in 2004 that I finally agreed to stand for elections— after my daughters had grown up and my husband had been promoted. (MP15, 19 December 2006)

It is clear that she had had to carefully negotiate the familial space and to put her husband’s career before her own. Because of this, she was eventually able to join politics (in part because of her father’s position in the party) without challenging gendered family hierarchies. In many cases the fathers, husbands, and brothers, in fact, do not support the decision of the woman to join political life—they can either oppose the decision to join politics or indeed to join a particular party. Also, women are often supported by their natal family but not their marital family—these negotiations are difficult and are often resolved by either negotiations between the two families or because of the breakdown of relations between husband and wife, as in the case of another MP whose estranged husband contested a number of elections against her (MP13, 28 April 2006). Some women MPs have decided not to (re) marry (MP22, 2 December 2005; MP5, 6 February 1993; MP31, 1 February1994; MP26, 28 February 2006). One spoke of this decision, in part, as her way of negotiating to join politics or to serve her constituency: I am not married. Many of my friends [in political life] are single. We are OK with each other. I am accepted now. Some would say [to my mother] why is she not married; but that was out of affection. I am happy now— there is so much else to do. I am happy with my work, friends, and my life. (MP22, 2 December 2005)

Accessing politics is, of course, not the same as sustaining that participation over a period of time. Women from political families are better supported in Parliament too: as one said,— ‘I have got a lot of support from my party because I was the only woman MP from my party … I know some MPs already because of my father being in politics. I was like a daughter or sister to most of them; they always supported me’ (MP13, 29 November 2005). For many women, family-based access was a launch pad for strong and long careers in politics such as MP2 and MP16; others failed to capitalize on the advantages that their political families provided and indeed suffered a backlash because of their affiliation to

Pathways to Parliament

67

particular political parties such as MP50. This was underlined to us in our interviews (MP39, 6 February 2006; MP35, 16 December 2005). So different families impact differently on women’s chances to access parliamentary politics. Families are socially differentiated, with different resources that they invest in supporting the female members. Sometimes elite background is important in translating aspirations to candidacy, while for others it is caste—reserved seats for lowest castes—that allows them to make claims on the party hierarchy, and for still others it is long service to the party. Families are also important in supporting the woman through the process of campaigning, constituency work, and absences from home during parliamentary sessions: ‘Some traditional people objected to my not wearing burka [veil], but my father was very progressive’ (MP35, 16 December 2006). Finally, ideological and party grounds define families, especially associated with cadre-based parties—some have long histories of supporting the local branch of the Communist Party while other families support the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), Vishva Hindu Parishad (VHP), or the BJP and their social organizations (see later). Women from families supporting left-wing parties might access politics on different terms than those from right-wing backgrounds. Both left- and right-wing cadre-based parties might provide women with an alternative route to parliamentary politics through participation in social and political movements. Categories of class, caste, and political elites operative in party politics is important here—those women who do not get the support of their families are vulnerable to reputational damage and find it difficult to make it and sustain careers in political life. We are struck by the fact that almost all of the women MPs we interviewed get and value the support of their families. This observation raises the question, what happens when women wanting to join politics are not supported by their families? Do they have alternative routes to Parliament? In the next section we analyse the importance of participation in social movements as a route to parliamentary politics.

Participation in Social Movements Social movements are inflected with different ideologies—nationalism, socialism, and right-wing traditionalism; they have arisen in different contexts—colonialism, non-democratic historical moments, as well as democratic ones; they also have been representatives of different politics such as working class, communist, right-wing Hindutva, and caste-based

68

Performing Representation

mobilizations. Political parties play an important role in giving shape to these movements and are, in turn, shaped by them. Women have been able to develop successful strategies of negotiating the political spaces and opportunities provided by these movements in their own interests. Social movements are the field of politics within which aspirant individuals develop their political networks and skills. This is particularly important in the context of India where the nationalist movement was an important mobilizer of women, as seen in Chapter 1 (Chattopadhyaya, 1983; Joshi, 1989). Unsurprisingly, therefore, in the earlier Parliaments, many women had strong links with the national movement, either through their families or directly.6 As we show in Chapter 1, while national and communist movements both rejected special measures for women in politics, all political parties mobilized women through ‘women’s wings’ of the parties, such as the All-India Mahila (Women’s) Congress and the NFIW and the Mahila Morcha. An autonomous women’s movement was a response to such party-based mobilizations of women, for example, by some women on the left (Chakravarti, 2005). I became a member of the Bengal Provincial Students Federation (BPSF) in 1939 … Later, I became the secretary of the Students Federation … I also worked hard during the postal workers’ strike of 1945 when I addressed my first political rally; I was very nervous as I was the only woman student speaker … the Communist Party was banned in 1948 and [my husband] and I were detained without trial for six months … I was elected to the West Bengal Assembly, in 1967 and then again in 1972 … I was elected to the [Seventh] Lok Sabha in 1979 … and have been the MP since then. (MP27, 12 December 1994)

Post-Independence, the Communist Party–led civil rights movements, and the anti-Emergency movement led by Jaiprakash Narayan (JP) in 1975–7 were important political moments, which brought millions of people to the forefront of national politics. These movements appealed to students, and many young women such as MP14 (14 July 2009) of Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI[M]) and MP17 (27 January 1994) of BJP joined this broad oppositional movement and stayed on in politics. Social movements provide a big stage where political performance is crafted, rhetorical skills displayed, reputations made, and ‘stars’ emerge 6

Smt. Subhadra Joshi, Smt. Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit, and Smt. Tarkeshwari Sinha (INC), Smt. Renu Chakravartty (CPI), Smt. Sucheta Kripalani.

Pathways to Parliament

69

and attract attention of political parties. In both the narratives above we note that class and higher education allowed some women to participate first in student movements and then party political movements, through which they were given the opportunity for skill development—making speeches, for example, which marked them as promising politicians for the party. I haven’t got politics as my inheritance [viraasat]; no one in my family was in politics … I came to politics through the JP movement … I worked as a lawyer on the Baroda Dynamite case. When elections were announced, I campaigned hugely for the Janata Party and came into the limelight. I was elected in the Assembly elections in 1977—I was only –25 and I became a Cabinet member. So it was the JP movement that brought me into politics. I went to get his [JP’s] blessings [aashirwad] before I sat on the ministerial chair. (MP43, 1 February 1994)

While the 1970s and 1980s saw the first wave of Indian feminist movement campaigning against state and domestic violence against women (Amrita Basu, 1992; Ray, 1999; Sen, 2000; MP19, 11 August 2010), in the 1990s India’s economic liberalization and new social challenges saw the mushrooming of autonomous women’s organizations that sought to distance themselves from party-based women’s associations on three counts—the goals that they set themselves, the conceptual frameworks within which to understand women’s subordination and strategies to counter these, and the organizational principles of these groups in contrast to party-based women’s associations (Chakravarti, 2005). Many women MPs we interviewed had strong links with the women’s wings of their political parties but not with the autonomous women’s groups. The 1990s also witnessed the rise of fundamentalism and saw the appropriation of slogans of the women’s movement by communalist forces in Indian politics (Agnihotri and Mazumdar, 1995: 1869; Sarkar and Butalia, 1995; Karat, 2005; MP19, 11 August 2010). The BJP mobilized women not only as voters but also as members of its organizations. One senior BJP MP claimed, We want to attract women in large numbers—through education, but also through encouraging their increased representation. For that we have recently made a provision in our constitution. Our ward unit would not be considered valid unless two women are office bearers. This is a rider that will help women to come forward. (MP43, 1 February 1994)

The BJP presents the inclusion of women as an important strategy to preserve Hindutva, the Hindu way of life, which its leaders contend is

70

Performing Representation

safe in the hands of Hindu women: ‘Although out of the 200,000 kaar sevaks who went to Ayodhya for the destruction of the Babri Masjid, 55,000 were women, their role was mainly behind the curtain, cooking and feeding their male counterparts’ (Agnes, 1995: 147). Symbolic empowerment of women thus becomes a particular but necessary project. ‘For me, politics is not separate from religion … Religious people have to fight social evils, and if they have to enter politics to do so, they should’, said an MP who is a product of the rise of Hindu militancy in Indian politics and who was at the forefront of the movement that brought down the Babri Mosque in Ayodhya (MP5, 27 January 1994). She entered politics with the patronage of Vijaya Raje Scindia, a woman leader from a princely family, at a time when the BJP was deliberately switching its political strategy to a militant mobilization of the Hindu vote bank. She dresses the part and presents herself as a sadhvi (female Hindu mendicant) who can then escape the traditional familial bonds to serve the Hindu community. Several BJP women MPs were participants in these communal social movements either actively (MP5, 6 February 1993) or in traditional supportive roles (MP24, 6 December 2005; MP31, 1 February 1994): ‘My family was an RSS family; my husband was also in the RSS … I joined the VHP and went to Ayodhya in 1992’ (MP24, 6 December 2005). In interviews several BJP MPs mentioned going to Ayodhya but only one spoke openly about it. Listening closely to this awkwardness allowed us to understand that their presence in Ayodhya was like grit in a smooth narrative—within the party it was a badge of honour, but they were also aware that outside the party their presence and participation in a violent movement that brought down a medieval mosque in the name of Hindutva was not acceptable. So they mentioned it but did not discuss it—participating in this moment of violence opened certain routes for them within the party; sustaining their public profile, however, required a careful management of this participatory history. The weak link between women MPs and autonomous women’s movements poses difficult issues of representativeness of women in Parliament. If the autonomous women’s movements are not able to access, lobby, and influence women MPs and if women MPs’ contact with women’s movements is through the party’s women’s wings, then the articulation of the broad interests of women in Parliament becomes difficult and largely remains contained within party agendas. At the same time, as the information mentioned earlier shows, the left autonomous women’s movement does come together with the Communist parties.

Pathways to Parliament

71

However, if the number of women candidates from the Communist Party is so few, the effect of such mobilization is limited. Even the more radical and feminist MPs such as Brinda Karat of the CPI(M) could not raise her voice against her party’s government in West Bengal during the Nandigram agitation against dispossession of agricultural land from poor peasants, during which the state police was accused of perpetrating sexual and physical violence against peasants (The Hindu, 2007). The role of parties is inevitably critical in the political lives of women parliamentarians.

Role of Political Parties The frustration with and dependence on political parties is evident in the stories many women MPs tell. The dependence of women on party leadership is clear; while sometimes changes in party leadership can open new routes to Parliament, gendered institutional power of political parties can also thwart women. Political parties are complex and fraught terrains for women: [The reason why there are so few women in Parliament is that] parties keep changing their view … now even within our party [the Congress] women get unwinnable seats; then she loses and they [the men] start saying that women should stay at home. I say we can do both—look after the family and work in politics. (MP47, 3 March 2006)

While the 2014 election saw the number of women contesting Lok Sabha elections almost double, from 355 in 2004 to 556 in 2009 and 668 in 2014, the proportion of women among total candidates has remained relatively the same because the number of male candidates has also risen during these recent elections. In the general election of 2014, women represented around 8.1 per cent of a total 8,251 candidates contesting for 543 seats (ECI, 2014)—an increase of only 1 per cent over the previous two elections when women constituted around 7 per cent of all candidates—and male candidates represented an overwhelming 92 to 93 per cent in the last three general elections (ECI, 2004, 2009). Party nomination is critical because nominated politicians have the greatest chance of being elected, especially those nominated by major parties. Party nomination brings party recognition, the party symbol, support from loyal party members, help from party workers in campaigning, and, in some parties, some financial support. Even though candidate recognition matters, voters still vote overwhelmingly for

72

Performing Representation

parties and not individual candidates. Independent candidates have very little chance of winning: in 2014, almost a third of the 668 women contesting in 2014 were contesting as independents; all 206 women lost and forfeited their security deposit. Men also contest and lose as independents and in higher proportion too, around 40 per cent in 2014 (calculated from ECI, 2014; see also Spary, 2014). Parties like to maximize their advantage in popular politics; we have already mentioned that their political families are mobilized for their recognition value. The same recognition value is important for generating a sympathy vote. Personal tragedy can open doors to politics for some women—one MP’s police officer husband died while chasing dacoits in Bihar, another’s husband was murdered by the police under suspicious circumstances; both were nominated to capitalize on the ‘sympathy vote’: I stood for election to seek justice for the killing of my husband. I was pregnant at that time; it was 2003. There was a knock on the door in the middle of the night. When my husband opened the door, they shot him. I wanted to bring the murderers to justice; I knew AIDMK had ordered his killing. DMK gave me a seat—Tiruchendur; I campaigned with my newborn baby in my arms and asked people to vote for me so that I could avenge my husband’s murder. I won by a good margin. (MP38, 19 December 2006)

Women have also benefited through the patronage or policy initiatives of party leaders (MP6, 7 December 2005; MP9, 3 August 2009; MP19, 11 August 2010). Rajiv Gandhi was particularly important as a party leader in promoting women into parliamentary politics. ‘I am a product [sic] of Rajivji. He had an astute eye [parkhi nazar]; he brought many good people into politics’ (MP47, 3 March 2006). One MP’s story gave credence to the importance of the role of party leaders, but also pointed to the resentment that is generated among local party leadership for women being ‘parachuted’ into parliamentary seats by national leaders: I am a diehard Congress person because of my father. Our family has always been loyal to the Congress … In Congress we are dominated by personalities and the party tends to reflect this in its working … Rajivji brought me into politics after my father died … Some senior leaders [at the State level] created problems for me—they said I was too young; also, because I had direct access to Rajivji, they didn’t like that; they wanted the control and also because of my caste—I come from Scheduled

Pathways to Parliament

73

Caste7 community … But always, Rajivji was a big support. (MP22, 2 December 2005)

Some women have, however, risen successfully through the ranks of the party, showing the progression from local to national politics that is so often short-circuited by those with family connections in political parties: I was an active member of VHP Durgavahini [women’s wing of VHP], of which I was also the Chairperson in 1989 … I then became district secretary and then president of the Mahila Morcha and fought municipal elections in Udaipur … In 1999 I became the state president of Mahila Morcha and remained in that post for four years. It was then that I fought elections for Parliament against [MP15, 16 December 2006]. The Party wanted a woman to stand against her. I won by 75,000 votes. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

However, working in local party politics remains an important but fraught route to the national Parliament for women. One MP suggested that women who do not come from political families and those who have to ‘rise from below’ have a difficult time, that politics is ‘dirty’ and the reputation of women aspirants is often undermined: I came through a different route—straight to the top [parliamentary politics], not through the mire [keechard] of local politics. So much character assassination goes on all the time at that level. Good families are able to protect their daughters; lower families are not. There are 25 competitors for each parliamentary ticket; there was the local group against me. That is why I say that reservation [of seats for women] is essential. (MP13, 20 March 2006)

This perception, and one assumes experience, of politics as ‘dirty’ is an important impediment to women joining politics. This suggests that (a) elitism is perpetuated through political families using their social capital to ‘protect’ their female members from the hurly burly of local politics; and (b) ordinary families find it difficult to give such protection and, therefore, are reluctant to allow women to engage in party politics on the ground.8 In our sample of MPs, 70 per cent were directly 7 The 9th Schedule of the Indian Constitution provides a comprehensive quota for the lowest castes and tribes; hence lower caste people are often referred to as from the Scheduled Castes. 8 See Reddy (2010). Interestingly, this frank exposure of sexual harassment in political life did not result in much public comment or mobilization of women’s groups against this.

74

Performing Representation

elected to Parliament rather than first being elected to state assemblies and working in provincial politics. So, while family connections remain extremely important within party politics (MP1, 30 July 2009; MP4, 3 July 2009; MP6, 7 December 2005; MP11, 30 March 2014), charismatic personalities have sometimes forced their way into national party politics (MP16, 30 November 2005), as they have through hard, long-term graft in regional party work, sometimes specifically in the women’s wings of political parties (MP22, 2 December 2005; MP3, 2 August 2009; MP19, 11 August 2010). In Chapter 3, we outline party politics of nomination, support, and election more fully. In the next section, we analyse the debate on quotas as a route for women to Parliament.

Reservation for Women BJP supports the quota bill … 33 percent reservations for panchayats was passed by the same parliamentarians who oppose this bill because at that time their own seat [kursi] was not going anywhere; they didn’t think that their own seat might be under threat … We [BJP] were in 1996 the first to demand reservation for women, but even in our party men are worried. They tell me, ‘Why are you doing this injustice to us, behenji [sister]? We will support all the other bills that you bring, just leave this one alone.’ (MP43, 2 December 2005)

As noted in Chapter 1, the women leaders in the first Parliament did not want any reservations for women. They insisted that quotas were un-meritocratic and marked women as unequal and needing special measures rather than being equal citizens of independent India. The debate on quotas was ignited after a long hiatus in 1992, when discussion about women’s under-representation led to the passing of the 92nd and 93rd Amendment Act that provided quotas for women at the village panchayat levels. At the level of the national Parliament and state assemblies, the WRB was first introduced in the Lok Sabha by the Deve Gowda government on 12 September 1996 and then Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s NDA government re-introduced the bill in the 12th Lok Sabha in 1998 … The NDA government re-introduced the bill in the 13th Lok Sabha in 1999 … It moved the Bill again amid pandemonium in 2002 … The Bill was introduced twice in Parliament in 2003 … The Parliamentary Standing Committee on Law and Justice, and Personnel recommended passage of the Bill in Dec 2009. (The Hindu, 2010)

Pathways to Parliament

75

Introduced again in the Rajya Sabha in 2010, it passed amid extraordinary scenes of parliamentary disruption on 9 March 2010, a day after International Women’s Day. However, the bill has not passed in the Lok Sabha and its fate is, therefore, undecided. When the first round of our interviews with women MPs were conducted in 1994, most of them were either hesitant in their support for or clearly hostile to any reservations for women in Parliament;9 one MP pointed out, ‘I do not want the quota system—there will be a lot of heartburning among male colleagues, and they will not respect you, thinking you are a “quotacandidate”, and question your ability. But if you achieve your place on merit then they will accept you as one of them’ (MP43, 1 February 1994). The arguments that she rehearsed were predictable—she placed her own achievements in gaining access to politics centre stage and suggested that as a ‘quota woman’ she would not have been able to gain the respect of her peers in Parliament or legitimacy in the eyes of their constituents. However, when interviewed in 2005–6, many of the same women MPs, cutting across the right–left spectrum, supported reservations for women. One said, ‘We are 50 per cent of the population … [they] should at least get a chance [to enter politics], to be empowered’ (MP13, 29 November 2005). What they were also clear about was the reason why it has taken so long for the WRB to be passed: ‘The men are worried that they will lose seats’, many of them said (MP43, 2 December 2005). What explains this change of attitude towards reservations? Party politics has inevitably been central to this shift. With the fracturing of the Congress-dominated political scene, the rise of regional and identity-based political parties, and the consolidation of coalition politics, the need to mobilize new groups of the electorate became important— and women were one such critical group. No party wanted to pass off the chance to appear as the champion of women’s representation in Parliament, even though they approached women’s role in politics from very different ideological perspectives. Party leaders have also been a factor as they have publicly taken a position in support of the WRB. Sonia Gandhi, for example, invested considerable political capital in seeing its passage through the Rajya Sabha and political parties supporting the bill laid claim to the credit for enabling it. The continuing pressure of the autonomous women’s movements also created a discursive shift in 9

MP.

One clearly supportive voice then was that of the late Geeta Mukherjee,

76

Performing Representation

the media and finally, the history of addressing social exclusion through formal quota strategies (the 9th Schedule of the Indian Constitution) provided a template for legislation (see Figure 2.1). Despite rhetorical support by many political parties, however, the bill met with stiff opposition. In 1997, in protest against the bill not being discussed in Parliament, Geeta Mukherjee led a cross-party group of women to leave the parliamentary session with the words: ‘We walk out in protest of the Eighty-First Constitution (Amendment) Bill not being taken up’.10 There is an extensive literature and political interest in the validity of quotas as a ‘fast track’ (Dahlerup, 2005; Baldez, 2004) to gender equality. While some worry about the normative issues of group over individual interests and issues of equal opportunities (Hassim, 2006), most feminist scholarship has focused on ‘virtuous circle of representation’, wherein higher numbers of women in parliaments allow for a better

Figure 2.1 2013

Women’s Groups Campaigning for the WRB, Delhi, December

Source: Authors. 10

Geeta Mukherjee, architect of the WRB. See http://epgp.inflibnet. ac.in/epgpdata/uploads/epgp_content/S000456WS/P000865/M008170/ ET/1474011144ETM16.pdf, last accessed on 12 June 2018.

Pathways to Parliament

77

convergence of descriptive and substantive representation (Hassim, 2004; Goetz and Hassim, 2003). In the Indian context, much has also been written about the quotas for women in local government (Raman, 2002; Rai, 2007; Asmita Basu, 2008; Kudva and Misra, 2008; Baviskar and Mathew, 2009), which set the precedent for the introduction of the WRB in the Indian Parliament in 1996 (Menon, 2000; Rai and Sharma, 2000; Jayal, 2006b). While there has been concern about the elite nature of women’s representation in Parliament, and scepticism about the need for a quota (Kishwar, 1996), generally the literature reflects the support for quotas for women (Karat, 2005). There have, however, been significant differences among parties on the detailed provisions, primarily on grounds of caste representation and how this will translate into seats for women, thus addressing the issue of elitism (Rai and Sharma, 2000). One MP articulated her party’s view: Reservation is important but our concern is that OBC women will not get to Parliament through this … just because they are not educated doesn’t mean they are not clever and without ideas … unless we have a quota within the quota these women will not come to Parliament. (MP32, 20 December 2006)

While the bill has a long way to go before it becomes law—the Lok Sabha and at least 15 state assemblies have to pass the bill—the quota route to Parliament is now at least a possibility for women. A fascinating civil society mobilization is taking place around the passage of this bill. One form that this campaign took is also interesting—a railway journey to mobilize support for the bill; while resonant of political yatras (a synonym for journey which the BJP has appropriated in its campaigns to spread the message of Hindutva), it has explicitly used the secular term ‘Reservation Express’ to indicate the voyage that women have to make—allowing for a broad coalition of organizations to support it. Will this build stronger bridges between women MPs of the future and women’s groups involved in this campaign? *** As we have seen above, stories matter. They matter because they allow us to probe beneath macro-level political explanations to access the textured complexities of political life. Through the analysis of narratives of women MPs in India, this chapter has shown how not only the structural challenges that they face but also the everyday negotiations that they

78

Performing Representation

make in order to access and then stay and work in Parliament are important to accounting for the gendered politics of the Indian Parliament. The stories that women MPs tell about their journeys to Parliament are varied and yet produce a coherent, if complex, picture of gender politics in India. They also tell us how some routes to Parliament remain the same—for example, the support of families—and others have changed radically, in particular the approach to quotas. The family remains a key source of support to women accessing parliamentary politics. However, these stories let us examine the particular nature of this support—under the ambit of ‘the family’ many different incentives are operative and many diverse negotiations take place. Class, caste, and religion all affect family assets as do the politics of the family itself—its ideological position and party preferences. However, these stories strongly suggest that where women do not have ‘political families’ in the background, other routes can be explored. Their participation in social movements can be crucial to their accessing political life. Through such participation they come to the attention of party leaders, who might then promote them. They also learn political skills through their participation in social movements—speech making, relating to ‘ordinary people’, and negotiating party politics. However, while families continue to play an important part in the success of the MPs, we also see a growing support for quotas among our interviewees. This reflects in part the growing party support for quotas, but also our interviewees’ belief that opposition to the bill is encountered from all political parties because of the threat it poses to male privilege in securing winnable seats to Parliament. We also notice that unlike in many other countries, such as the UK, the right-wing–leftwing divide on the issue of quotas does not hold; officially BJP and the Congress as well as the Communists support the WRB, while the positions of the lower caste–based parties have been different, and at time hostile to it. Our interviews also reveal that at the institutional level, very few political parties have rigorously implemented a party quota for women, but that some party leaders, particularly at the national levels have championed the selection of women candidates—many women speak of their success as ‘a gift’ from the leader, placing them in particular relationships of dependence. In this chapter we have attempted to develop an understanding of how the personal inflects the public and political as women make the journey to the Indian Parliament. The messy negotiations of the everyday then become part of the stories of success and shape our appreciation of these disparate journeys and help

Pathways to Parliament

79

us analyse the different factors in the success of women in the Indian Parliament. In the next chapter we explore the specific mode of electoral performance that takes women from politics to Parliament: elections. Elections are highly performative moments in the parliamentary calendar—indeed the form and shape of Parliament depends on their outcome. Election data is an important means of assessing gendered outcomes as it makes visible the intersectionalities of parliamentary candidates and election outcomes. We cover both these aspects in our analysis.

3

Contesting Elections Women’s Candidacy for the Lok Sabha

[T]he premise of conventional wisdom that difficult seats and difficult elections cannot be won by women has been exposed as unfounded prejudice and bias. (Karat, 2005: 153)

elebrated freedom fighter Kamaladevi Chattopadhyay narrates the moment in pre-Independence India when women were faced with C the first opportunity to participate as candidates in elections: With the removal of the ban in 1927, the Madras State Provincial Legislature threw open its membership to women when there were only a few weeks left for a fresh election. Though a constitutional victory had been scored the question was: who would have the temerity to contest with so little time to prepare. It was bound to be an unequal contest. As the candidates selected by the various parties for the election were already busy in the campaign, it seemed too late and would need a bulldog courage for a woman to venture into the fray. (Chattopadhyay, 2014 [1986]: 81)

The courageous task fell to Kamaladevi, persuaded by fellow women activists to contest a seat in the Madras Legislative Council from Mangalore. However, Kamaladevi’s campaign team encountered the first obstacle when they discovered her name was not in the voter’s list because the qualifications for franchise included property ownership: ‘A long term lease of some property was hurriedly arranged to enable me to pay the tax on property and be entitled to vote’ (Chattopadhyay, 2014 [1986]: 82). By her own account, she lost by a very small margin of 55 votes, Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0004

Contesting Elections

81

but was not too disappointed (Chattopadhyay, 2014 [1986]: 82). Her contemporary, Muthulakshmi Reddy, followed her lead and was nominated to the Madras Legislative Council and was appointed as the council’s deputy president (then the equivalent of deputy speaker) (Reddy, 1930). After Reddy, a number of women followed, both appointed and elected into the provincial legislatures of British India, the Constituent Assembly in 1946, the Provisional Parliament of India in 1951, the first Lok Sabha in 1952, and the first state assemblies of independent India. Early on the Election Commission took a strong interest in women’s voting and participation in elections because it was seen as a marker of democracy (Singer, 2007: 9). It heightened the visibility of women as a category in its Election Reports (designating women with a ‘W’), and established separate polling queues and, in some cases, separate polling booths (Singer, 2007: 1). As a result, women’s participation in elections was imbued with a special kind of importance and visibility from the early years after Independence. These earlier pioneering moments contrast with the frustratingly slow incremental presence of women in the national Parliament in the years since Independence (see Figure 3.1). The First Lok Sabha saw 24 women members join out of a total of 489 MPs, or around 5 per cent.1 If we journey through more than 60 years to India’s most recent general election in 2014, we find that 62 women were elected to the 16th Lok Sabha, to a house of 543 seats, or just over 11 per cent.2 After almost 70 years of Independence, women occupy just over 1 in 10 seats in the lower house of Parliament, demonstrating the significant barriers that women face in accessing the Lok Sabha (see Figures 3.1a and 3.1b). Assuming the absence of more concerted action to improve women’s participation, projections of women’s gradually increasing presence in Parliament, discussed towards the end of this chapter, suggest a similarly frustrating pace.3 In this chapter, we examine the gendered nature 1

Of these 24 women, at least 21 were elected in 1951, and some entered later in bye-elections—discussed further later. 2 This rose to 66 in 2015 as a result of bye-elections and nominations bringing women’s presence to around 12 per cent. The Lok Sabha has 545 seats if we include the two seats for Anglo-Indians nominated by the president. 3 We concentrate primarily on the Lok Sabha as elections to the Rajya Sabha operate on different dynamics—they are not the big carnival of democracy that Lok Sabha elections represent. Rajya Sabha candidates (aside from nominated members) are indirectly elected by MLAs, elected in stages, as the Rajya Sabha

82

Performing Representation

Figure 3.1a

Women in Lok Sabha Elections 1957–2014

Source: Compiled by the authors based on data sourced from ECI reports. Note: The figures for the first General Election of 1951–2 are not included as the ECI’s election report for 1951 does not record the gender of candidates or those elected. The Lok Sabha website shows that there were 24 women MPs in the First Lok Sabha, though two of these entered Parliament after the general election and one appears to have entered afterwards as they were not listed in the election report, but as there is no bio-profile for this member this cannot be confirmed. This suggests that 21 women were elected in the 1951 election. The data used here pertains to the summary data. The figure for the 1957 election is included and based on a different electoral system involving single- and dual-member constituencies, which is different to subsequent elections that had only single-member constituencies. Of the 403 parliamentary constituencies, 91 were dual-member constituencies, meaning there were 494 seats available. Twenty-two women were elected in 1957 and the figure of 4.4 per cent takes into account their proportion among seats rather than constituencies. Also to be noted are some conflicting data in the ECI’s Election Report for 1971 on the number of women candidates, including conflicts between the summary and detailed listings.

does not dissolve, and in far smaller numbers. Elections are thus more fragmented and do not take place concurrently on a national scale. If Rajya Sabha candidates have to canvass at all it is to MLAs rather than voters.

Contesting Elections

Figure 3.1b

83

Women in Lok Sabha Elections 1957–2014

Source: Compiled by the authors based on data sourced from ECI reports.

of Indian parliamentary elections through examining both numerical and experiential data. While numbers give us a broad sense of women’s persistent minority presence among candidates in elections as well as their election to Parliament, we find multiple dynamics across region and party, for candidates from different communities, and over time, which complicate this picture. Elections are about so much more than just the outcome; they are also exciting and highly performative events; they are about the performance of citizenship (Singer, 2007: 1) and provide insights into the ‘social imaginaries’ of democracy (M. Banerjee, 2014: 6–8). Indian elections in particular are huge in scale, colourful, and loud (M. Banerjee, 2014: 7).4 Looking beyond the numbers we examine the experiences of contesting elections. We address the dynamics of contesting parliamentary elections—party nomination, spatial and temporal elements of 4 However, our experience of the 2014 election is consistent with M. Banerjee’s (2014: 50) comment that the Election Commission implemented constraints on election publicity material and paraphernalia, making it less ‘carnivalesque’.

84

Performing Representation

campaigning, and contemporary dynamics of electoral politics in India, which are rarely investigated through a gendered lens (Singer, 2007). This enables us to explore issues of representation and inclusion, social hierarchies, and regional differences—and the particularly gendered forms of performative labour required of election candidates—to challenge the narratives put forward by political parties, new and old, to explain the under-representation of women in Indian politics and to understand how electoral dynamics influence the final composition of women MPs. For example, we show that the pluralization of Indian democratic politics in the form of state-based parties has had mixed results for women’s participation; seat-sharing alliances may reduce the opportunities for aspiring women candidates; and new parties that offer fresh hope to voters do not necessarily break the mould with regard to women’s inclusion. Thus we show how women’s participation in Lok Sabha elections is not a ‘niche’ concern but is intimately connected to developments in Indian democratic politics on the one hand, and holds relevance for comparative discussions of gender and elections elsewhere on the other. Before we begin, a brief note regarding the gender categories used throughout this chapter: after a Supreme Court judgment in 2014, the 2014 Lok Sabha election was the first parliamentary election in India to include the category of ‘Others’, in addition to ‘Male’ and ‘Female’, recognizing non-binary candidates and voters/electors (BBC, 2014). More than 28,000 voters registered to vote as ‘Others’ and more than 1,900 voted. Six candidates contested as ‘Others’—one each in Karnataka (in an SC-reserved seat), Maharashtra, and Tamil Nadu, and three in Uttar Pradesh. None garnered enough votes to keep their deposit. However, at the local level, transgender candidates have been elected such as Madhu Kinnar, elected mayor of Raigarh in 2015. This official recognition is an important global development in electoral practice and inclusive democratic politics. Throughout the chapter we refer to men and women, but we recognize this development enables, at least symbolically, the participation of a more inclusive range of gender identities in India’s parliamentary elections.

Women Candidates Contesting Elections—Some Recent Trends Election data shows us that over time the number of women contesting elections has increased considerably, but men still constitute the majority of candidates—92 to 93 per cent in the last three general elections.

Contesting Elections

85

The 2014 election saw the number of women contesting Lok Sabha elections almost double, from 355 in 2004 to 556 in 2009 and 668 in 2014. However, the proportion of women among total candidates has remained relatively the same because the number of male candidates had also risen in the 2014 election. In the general election of 2014, women represented around 8.1 per cent of a total 8,251 candidates contesting for 543 seats (ECI, 2014), an increase of only 1 per cent over the previous two elections when women constituted around 7 per cent of all candidates (ECI, 2004, 2009). Not All Candidates Are Equal—Securing a Party Nomination

Politicians who stand the greatest chance of being elected are those nominated by major political parties. Party nomination brings party recognition, the party symbol, support from loyal party members, help from party workers in campaigning, and, in some parties, some financial support. Voters still vote overwhelmingly for parties, not individual candidates (though the party does take into account the individual, as discussed later in the chapter). Of the total number of aspirants in any election, only a fraction of these women (and men) candidates are nominated by a major political party; of the fortunate 69 per cent of women candidates receiving a party nomination in 2014, only half were nominated by major political parties. The remainder are nominated either by smaller or new parties with little or no chance of electoral success, or contest as independent candidates. The latter are far less likely to be elected. In 2014, almost a third of the 668 women contesting in 2014 were contesting as independents and thus stood very little chance of winning; all 206 women who stood as independents lost and forfeited their security deposit, having obtained less than one-sixth of the total valid votes cast in their respective contests. That said, it is encouraging when large numbers of women put themselves forward to contest as independents. Candidates may contest as independents for a variety of reasons— not just to win but take a stand against a powerful main contender to provide visibility to a cause; to indicate dissatisfaction with established political parties; and to build a political reputation during campaigns. Some candidates will come forward independently but will be offered support and candidacy by a much smaller, ‘registered but unrecognized’ party. For example, educationist and former State Women’s Commission chairperson Vasanthi Devi contested the 2016 Tamil Nadu Assembly election against the incumbent chief minister, Jayalalithaa, for Viduthalai

86

Performing Representation

Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) on an anti-corruption platform (Jagannath, 2016). Activist Irom Sharmila, who spent 16 years on hunger strike protesting the Armed Forces Special Power Act in her state, contested (and lost) the 2017 Manipur state election. Men also contest and lose as independents, and in higher proportion: around 40 per cent in 2014 (calculated from ECI, 2014 report).5 Notwithstanding important considerations of caste and class differences, male candidates may have more resources to risk contesting independently or for a relatively unknown party; women may face greater resource constraints or obstacles if not contesting on a prominent party ticket and, therefore, might prefer not to enter the fray at all. Some candidates, men and women, are encouraged to contest to act as a ‘spoiler’ to one of the main candidates, splitting their votes. Only a tiny minority of independents who had been refused tickets by political parties has gone on to win elections, indicating their ability to mobilize votes in opposition to major political parties through their performance as candidates. So, from a total 668 women candidates in the 2014 elections, a third of those, around 223 women, had a fighting chance of election. These 223 women candidates already amount to less than half of the total seats in the Lok Sabha. As some women may be contesting against each other, some may be incumbents faced with an anti-incumbency swing, and some may be nominated in seats where their party has weak support, we can already see why the presence of women in the Lok Sabha remains low. Party nomination matters. The overall number of women candidates also matters. Are Perceptions of ‘Winnability’ Gendered?

How do women candidates convince parties to nominate them? Several studies claim that parties most often nominate candidates on the 5

These percentages are calculated from tables contained within the ECI report on the 2014 election and the ECI’s spreadsheets on the results. Together these show that there were 3,235 Independent candidates, among whom were 206 women, 6 Others, and 3,023 men. The percentages are obtained by using the corresponding figures for all candidates (party-nominated and Independent combined) which are 668 women, 6 Others, and 7,577 men. These percentages were both considerably lower compared to the previous general election in 2009, when 37 per cent of women candidates and 48 per cent of men candidates contested as Independents.

Contesting Elections

87

perception of ‘winnability’—a term associated with a political party’s assessment of whether an aspiring candidate will win an election, past performance, and caste and community consideration: ‘Incumbents get the nomination unless they are perceived to be no longer likely to win … Caste and (religious) community considerations are very important factors … but there is no mechanical formula. Past performance, and hence, “sitting-getting” is also not an inviolable principle’ (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014: 89; see also M. Banerjee, 2014: 43). Further considerations include record of party work (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014) as well as ‘family standing or clout of party hierarchy rather than a woman vote bank’ (Dagar, 2011: 127). As we have seen in Chapter 2, family standing becomes an asset for selection rather than a basis for criticism. Personal connections with the party leadership are, therefore, influential in the selection process, with different degrees of value for different parties and within the same party over time (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014). The link between cinema and politics has been well established by scholars of Indian politics, particularly in south India (Dickey, 1993, 2003; Pandian, 1992). Women candidates who have been active in the film and television industry are, of course, used to the public attention and performance and are often nominated or are invited to be star campaigners as they have a readymade fan base.6 There are a host of actors such as Kirron Kher, Smriti Irani, and Hema Malini who have contested as candidates and as star campaigners of BJP and Congress. In addition, both men and women candidates need to demonstrate they have adequate funds to contest an election because it ‘can be financially incredibly demanding’ (Kumari, 2011: 40). These factors can make parties risk averse when it comes to nominating women candidates (Spary, 2014a). Despite the fact that the numbers rarely support this gendered perception, women candidates are somehow deemed to have less ‘winnability’ qualities compared to male candidates (CSR and UN, 2014). For example, the success rate of women candidates in 2014 was higher than that of male candidates overall, with 9.3 per cent of women candidates successfully elected (or 62 out of 668 women candidates) in comparison to 6.3 per cent of men candidates (or 481 out of 7,577 men candidates) 6

In the chapter on parliamentary debates (Chapter 5), we return to this theme to highlight how in some instances their background as actors, which brings them voter popularity at election time, can be the source of mistreatment later on when in Parliament.

88

Performing Representation

(see Table 3.1). Also, proportionally fewer women candidates forfeited their deposits compared to men candidates: in 2014, 79 per cent women candidates (525 out of 668) forfeited their deposits as opposed to 85 per cent of all candidates (7,000 out of 8,251) (ECI, 2014).7 The volume of unsuccessful independent male candidates is a plausible explanation for the difference. Further, women candidates’ success rate compared to their male counterparts, in each party category and combined, is higher and this has remained the case over time (see Table 3.1; we return to the national versus state party dynamic later in the chapter). Thus the perception that women are less capable of winning elections has no empirical basis, except, of course, there being prejudice and bias; but with so few women nominated the opportunities to disprove this perception are also few. Does this mean that women are somehow better at contesting elections? Not necessarily. If parties were less risk averse in nominating women and nominated them in higher numbers, we might see similar success rates among women and men candidates (Spary, 2014b). We also need to look at party, regional, and other dynamics in more detail to better understand where women candidates are nominated, by whom, and whether they have a chance of winning. Intersections of Marginalization in Candidate Nominations for Reserved Seats

Discussing the difference between men and women candidates by gender obscures some of the huge diversity among men and women candidates, which both intersects with and cuts across gender, informed by a different set of dynamics such as caste. How women fare not just in general-category constituencies but also in reserved seats for SCs or Dalits and STs or Adivasis signifies particular forms of mediated inclusion of women (and men) as well as where women run for election.8 7

The corresponding figures for forfeited deposits in 2004 and 2009 showed the same trends: in 2004, 67 per cent female candidates and 78 per cent male candidates; in 2009, 79 per cent female candidates and 85 per cent male candidates. 8 To recall, 84 seats, or 15 per cent of total seats, are reserved in the Lok Sabha for SC candidates, where only candidates declared to be from this official category can contest in a reserved constituency. The same is true for constituencies reserved for STs, though these are few in number at 47 seats or just under 9 per cent of parliamentary constituencies.

21% 22% 27% 28% 26% 22% 25%

2014 2009 2004 1999 1998 1996 1991a

25% 32% 27% 34% 29% 29% 29%

Women Candidates 32% 36% 20% 21% 21% 17% 10%

Men Candidates 41% 56% 21% 24% 23% 18% 9%

Women Candidates

State Parties

24% 25% 24% 25% 25% 20% 22%

Men Candidates

29% 36% 25% 30% 28% 27% 26%

Women Candidates

National and State Parties Combined

Source: Calculated by the authors from ECI reports on Lok Sabha election results using party category as reported by the ECI. Note: a Prior to 1991, the figures for women candidates from state parties are too low to provide a reasonable comparison because a single candidate’s success results in a large percentage change in success rates. To illustrate, the figures for 1989, 1984, and 1980 elections involve three, four, and four women state party candidates respectively, and percentages fluctuate widely (0, 75, and 25) based on zero, three, and one women candidates winning respectively. The higher numbers of women candidates from 1991 (22 women and above) provide a more reasonable comparison between men’s and women’s success rates.

Men Candidates

Year of Election

National Parties

Table 3.1 Success Rates of Candidates Contesting Seats in Lok Sabha Elections (1980–2014), by Selected Party Categories and Combined

90

Performing Representation

Do parties nominate women in these seats in greater or lesser proportion than unreserved or ‘general’ constituencies? Election Commission data suggests that women are nominated in greater proportion in SC and ST category seats, compared to general seats. In the 2014 election, though women candidates constituted only 8 per cent of candidates overall, they constituted 14 per cent of all candidates contesting SC reserved seats (ECI, 2014). Women are also present in relatively higher proportions among those elected in SC reserved constituencies—12 of 84 elected MPs in the SC seats (14 per cent) are women, as opposed to just over 11 per cent women overall (discussed further in Chapter 4).9 Also nominated in slightly higher proportions in 2014 were ‘ST’ women compared to their proportion among all candidates, making up 13 per cent of ST category candidates compared to 8 per cent of all candidates. However, this did not carry through to their presence among elected MPs; women were relatively under-represented among MPs from ST reserved constituencies compared to their proportion overall (6.5 per cent of ST constituency MPs compared to 11 per cent of all MPs). This pattern has been observed in previous elections (Singer, 2007) and at the assembly level. Of course, we use the term ‘under/over-representation’ here in a context where women are under-represented in all categories. However, women’s greater presence among SC-reserved constituencies reveals interesting dynamics about which women are nominated, why, and in which constituencies. In a large study of election data in India, Jensenius (2016) observed that ‘much of the increase in the nomination of female candidates in India in recent years has occurred in reserved constituencies’ (2016: 441). She suggests that ‘as the pressure on parties to nominate more women has intensified, they have (whether strategically or not) responded by nominating female candidates at the cost of their least powerful male politicians—SC and ST men’ (Jensenius, 2016: 441). Such pressure, she argues, means that parties are ‘incentivized to field candidates with multiple such characteristics in order to be able to double-count them’ (Jensenius, 2016: 444). A related explanation is that parties assume Dalit women would be even less likely to challenge the party hierarchy than Dalit men (Dalit Congress 9 With similar proportions of women nominated and elected to SC-reserved constituencies, the gender gap in success rates is smaller in these seats compared to all seats where women make up 8 per cent of candidates but 11 per cent of elected MPs.

Contesting Elections

91

worker Purnima Devi, cited in Singer, 2007: 191). Of course, there are also senior Dalit women in party politics—former Lok Sabha Speaker Meira Kumar and BSP leader Mayawati have both been elected from SC-reserved constituencies, as have former ministers such as Krishna Tirath and Selja Kumari. This highlights the complex gender politics of elections and electability. One group consistently under-represented in the Lok Sabha is Muslim women. This, of course, is part of the broader pattern of the small number of Muslim MPs overall, particularly in the 16th Lok Sabha where only 22 Muslims were elected. Thus even though Muslims comprise just under 11 per cent of the population, only 4 per cent of the MPs elected to the Lok Sabha in 2014 were Muslim (Shaikh, 2014). Karin Deutsch Karlekar’s study of Muslim women in Indian politics notes the historically low representation of Muslim women in the Lok Sabha (Karlekar, 2005). Her detailed study of all Muslim women candidates contesting the four Lok Sabha elections during the 1990s showed that only 5 per cent of women candidates were Muslim, or 79 of the 1,479 women candidates contesting these four elections (Karlekar, 2005: 245). This is despite Muslim women representing 13 per cent of all women in India, meaning the under-representation of women and of Muslims is further entrenched among Muslim women. Muslim women candidates were more likely than all women candidates to forfeit their deposits due to a low number of votes. Speaking of her experience of contesting the 1991 Lok Sabha election from a remote constituency in Uttar Pradesh, senior journalist Seema Mustafa suggested that this was more because of religion than gender: The Muslim woman candidate is not an oddity. She is not pilloried for being a woman, or rejected for her gender. There is a great deal of respect … a healthy curiosity, and a strange acceptance of men as well as women … There was a general acceptance for me as a woman at all levels, but the criticism about being a Muslim did cut through the campaign. Does she say namaaz? We have never seen her even bowing her head? How is it that she never says inshallah? … was one of the loudest criticisms that I heard constantly. (Mustafa, 2017: 82)10 10 Mustafa also stated this was true for both men and women candidates who were Muslims—their religious piety being questioned (Mustafa, 2017: 78–9). Mustafa also acknowledged that her own family connections, as a grandniece of Independence movement leader Rafi Ahmad Kidwai, helped her standing with her party, the Janata Dal: ‘As I quickly learnt, in politics these connections, however transient, matter’ (2017: 71).

92

Performing Representation

Some Muslim women have played prominent roles in Parliament, however, especially in the Rajya Sabha: Najma Heptulla, served as deputy chairperson of the Rajya Sabha between 1988 and 2004. After crossing over from being a long-term Congress MP to BJP in 2004, Heptulla was the only Muslim minister in the Modi Cabinet at the start of the 16th Lok Sabha in 2014, until 2016 when she was appointed as governor of Manipur.11 From ECI data on women candidates in the three Lok Sabha elections of 2004, 2009, and 2014, we estimate that Muslim women’s participation has risen steadily from around 6 per cent of women candidates in 2004, to around 8 per cent in 2009, to 9 per cent in 2014 (ECI, 2004, 2009, 2014), meaning that though Muslim women are still under-represented among women candidates, their participation has improved even alongside the general increase in women candidates. In 2004 and 2009, ECI reports show that Muslim women candidates did not forfeit their deposits at a notably different rate compared to all women. However, in all three elections—2004, 2009, and 2014—they won on average fewer seats than all women candidates, and in 2014 they also did worse in terms of forfeiting their deposits. From this we conclude that while women’s participation in elections is increasing, the cache that political parties derive from candidates with multiple ‘marginalized’ identities does not apply to all social identities, given the disproportionately lower inclusion of Adivasi and Muslim women, and that successive elections can result in both gains and losses for under-represented groups among women. Party Differences in Nomination of Women Candidates

Do parties make a difference to women’s representation? Some parties are more inclusive of women candidates than others. Of the two largest national parties, Congress has historically nominated a greater proportion of women, but over time BJP’s nomination of women has increased (Spary, 2014b, see Figure 3.2). However, though BJP did well nationally 11 Other prominent examples include Anis Kidwai, who served two terms in the Rajya Sabha from Uttar Pradesh in the early post-Independence years (1956–68) (see Ayesha Kidwai’s biographical essay where she discusses Anis Kidwai’s time in the Rajya Sabha [Kidwai, 2011]). Mohsina Kidwai was elected to the 6th, 7th, and 8th Lok Sabhas (1978–89), and also served two terms in the Rajya Sabha more recently (2004–16).

Contesting Elections

93

Figure 3.2 Women Candidates in Lok Sabha Elections as a Percentage of Total Candidates, by Party (INC and BJP), 1980–2014

Source: ECI report for respective election years; updated from Spary (2014b).

in 2014, they nominated fewer women candidates than in 2009; of all BJP candidates the number dropped from 44 in 2009 to 37 in 2014. It is possible that with BJP sensing a victory in 2014, competition over seats became fiercer than usual and aspiring women candidates lost out as a result. In contrast, the Congress nominated a higher number and proportion of women candidates: 59 women in 2014 compared with 43 women in 2009. The number of candidates nominated in 2014 was the Congress party’s highest since the early 1980s. Perhaps the party sensed defeat and competition for seats diminished greatly (Sardesai, 2014: 276–7).12 It is plausible that reduced competition over nominations resulted in increased opportunities for aspiring women candidates as well as incumbents who were perhaps rewarded by the party for their loyalty. Other parties too have mixed records in nominating women (see Figure 3.3). As we note elsewhere, the left parties have not been role 12

The Congress was also rumoured to have struggled to raise sufficient campaign finances in 2014 (Sardesai, 2014: 205).

94

Performing Representation

(Cont’d)

Contesting Elections

Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam

95

All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam

Figure 3.3 Nomination of Women Candidates (Percentage of Total Party Candidates) by Selected Parties in Lok Sabha Elections since 1980

Source: Compiled from ECI reports.

models for nominating women candidates (Spary, 2014b), with the CPI(M) fluctuating between 7 and 12 per cent since the 1990s and the CPI not exceeding more than 10 per cent women among party candidates in recent years. The growth of state-level parties has been associated with the pluralization of Indian democracy, but few have asked whether

96

Performing Representation

this trend has enabled opportunities for women’s political participation generally. Due to their larger canvas, national parties have historically offered aspirants more opportunities than state-based parties—for both men and women, but particularly women. As state parties have grown, this gap has narrowed since the mid-1990s, with around three national party nominations to every one state party nomination, for both men and women, in 2014 (see Table 3.2). Some state parties have better records than others in nominating women candidates, although these also vary over time (Spary, 2014b; see Figure 3.3). The DMK in Tamil Nadu reached a high of almost 20 per cent in 2004 but regressed to less than 10 per cent in 2009 and 6 per cent in 2014. The Trinamul Congress has consistently nominated above 10 per cent female candidates since its first Lok Sabha election in 1998, and closer to 20 per cent in 2014, including 29 per cent women candidates in West Bengal, where its main supporter base is situated. The BSP—although technically a national party its success is mostly confined to Uttar Pradesh—has rarely ventured beyond 5 per cent women candidates, though in recent elections (2009 and 2014) 8 per cent of its candidates nominated in Uttar Pradesh were women. The Telugu Desam Party (TDP) in Andhra Pradesh reached a high of 15 per cent women candidates in 1999 but the number has declined ever since to less than 5 per cent in 2014. The Shiv Sena, predominantly based in Maharashtra but also contesting elsewhere, has never reached Table 3.2 by Sex

Ratio of State to National Party Candidates in Lok Sabha Elections,

Number of National Party Candidates to Each State Party Candidate Election Year 2014 2009 2004 1999 1998 1996 1991 1989 1984 1980

Women Candidates

Men Candidates

2.6 5.0 1.7 1.9 4.1 5.7 5.4 29.0 15.8 19.3

3.1 4.1 1.7 1.7 3.1 2.3 3.6 9.2 8.2 14.5

Source: ECI reports for respective election years.

Contesting Elections

97

10 per cent of women candidates. The Samajwadi Party, an opponent of the WRB, broke the 10 per cent mark for the first time in the 2014 Lok Sabha elections, and nominated women as 15 per cent of its candidates. Do Women-Led Parties Nominate More or Less Women Candidates?

Scholars of politics and gender have raised the question of whether we should expect women-led parties to nominate more women (Kittilson, 2006), a question also raised by the ‘critical actors’ approach (see Chapter 8). In India, the evidence for this is mixed. On the one hand, the Mamata Banerjee-led Trinamul Congress Party’s strong support of women candidates in 2014 could suggest that parties led by women are more inclusive of women candidates. On the other hand, if we look at other parties led by women—the BSP led by Mayawati, the AIADMK led by Jayalalithaa, and of course the Congress party led by Sonia Gandhi, the picture is more complicated. Deshpande has argued that the recent visibility of women leaders within state-based parties and the emergence of a women’s constituency in support of them leads to more women being nominated as candidates (Deshpande, 2009: 86). She also suggests that ‘parties with women leaders (AIADMK, Trinamool Congress [TMC], and BSP) have all gained more support among women voters in these elections’ (Deshpande, 2014; discussed later in the chapter). However, a quick examination of BSP shows that (Figure 3.3) the party has nominated proportionately fewer women candidates—around 4–5 per cent in Lok Sabha elections—since the party’s inception (discussed further in Chapter 4). But even in the large national parties, if women in central leadership positions strive to field more women candidates, state and local units may resist this. One senior MP we interviewed confirmed that state units of her (large national) party were more hesitant to give seats to women: I am a member of the Central Election Committee13—there are 11 of us; 5 are women. This is a very big position of trust, but it is not easy! Recommendations come from the states and they are male dominated— however much you fight—CM and leaders the legislative party, President

13 See the ‘Constitution & Rules of the Indian National Congress (as amended up to 83rd Plenary Session, 18–20 December 2010)’ available on the party’s website (http://inc.in/documents/constitution.pdf ).

98

Performing Representation

of Party … they came to us with their lists—the more we pressure, the less they [are] willing to accept women. Party constituency has been awarded to have 33% reservation [for women], but they still came to us and said ‘Madam we can’t win without these names’ … women can’t win. We fight and even give the seats to a woman, but they go back and pressurize her to withdraw, threaten not to help—party hierarchy in the states is male dominated—unless it is his wife, daughter/in-law they don’t support. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

As for parties’ women’s wings, a study of women in local elections suggested that the recommendations of the Mahila Congress and BJP Mahila Morcha, by their own admission, ‘were rarely taken into account’ (Ghosh and Lama-Rewal, 2005: 96). Similarly, we can also see mixed evidence for the notion that women voters necessarily vote for women: the lack of a woman candidate’s female ‘vote bank’ is sometimes raised by parties as a reason for why they do not nominate more women (Singer, 2007: 19, 22). There are far more considerations at play. Deshpande’s study shows that gendered electoral support changes over time and reflects more the fluctuating popularity of these parties rather than enduring support by women electorate for women candidates (Deshpande, 2009: 86). For example, between the 2004 and 2009 elections, Mamata Banerjee’s Trinamul Congress closed the earlier gender gap in voting in which men were more likely to vote for it than women; at the same time, the CPI(M) in West Bengal suffered an overall disadvantage among women voters in the 2009 election. This bucked the trend of a gender gap in support from women voters for the left parties (Deshpande, 2009: 86). Jayalalithaa’s party, the AIADMK in Tamil Nadu, saw its gender voting gap with support from women erode between 2004 and 2009 (Deshpande, 2009: 86). In contrast, a state-level party led by a man, the Biju Janata Dal in Odisha, experienced a gender voting gap towards women voters in the 2009 election, reversing their earlier disadvantage among women voters (Deshpande, 2009: 86). The inclusion of women in the electoral process and the programmatic inclusion of gender issues are two related but sufficiently distinct elements of a more progressive gender politics. Do Women Mostly Contest against Other Women?

Singer (2007) links the nomination of rival women candidates historically to the legacy of separate electorates for women but also to

Contesting Elections

99

an attempt to cultivate a ‘women’s constituency’. In the absence of reserved seats for women, it made political sense to run women candidates against each other to eliminate any dis/advantage of support from women voters. Some women politicians and activists did not appreciate this policy of pitting women against women, considering it divisive. In contrast, several left women MPs have not objected to standing against another woman and believed that elections should be contested according to policies and not the gender of the candidate (Karat, 2005). Though Singer suggests that women were still likely to be pitted against other women candidates in the late 1990s and early 2000s, we would contest this claim for more recent elections. The number of multi-women candidate contests doubled between 2004 and 2009; and increased slightly in 2014 (see Table 3.3). The proportion of multi-women contests also increased: in 2004 almost a third of constituencies where at least one woman contested saw multi-women contests.14 In 2009 this rose to nearly half of all contests with at least one woman candidate (151 of 330 contests or 46 per cent). Therefore, in contrast to Singer’s analysis we find that between 2004 and 2009 there was a considerable expansion of women’s candidacy. On the one hand, the rise of multi-women contests could be a sign of women’s increasing political participation and an effect of the increasingly pluralized party system. On the other, sole-women contests increased alongside multi-women contests, and as a result, the number of seats being contested also went up. And yet, fewer women contest elections against other women than is depicted in public discourse on elections, but when they do the media often sensationalizes the contest. The rival contest between Sushma Swaraj and Sonia Gandhi in the 1999 election is perhaps one of the most well-known examples, when Sushma Swaraj said she would shave her head if Sonia was ever elected as prime minister (Singer, 2007; Skoda, 2004). Much was made of the contest between Kirron Kher (BJP) and Gul Panag (Aam Aadmi Party [AAP]) in 2014 (discussed later).15 14

Singer’s figure of 75 multi-women contests is not accompanied by a figure of how many constituencies women contested overall, that is, both sole-woman and multi-women candidate contests. An analysis of ECI data from 2004 shows a slightly different figure of 79 multi-women contests out of 247 contests with at least one woman candidate, or of 32 per cent. 15 Other prominent rival women contests were incumbent Priya Dutt (Congress) contesting against Poonam Mahajan (BJP) in Mumbai North Central

Sole-Woman and Multi-Women Candidate Contests in Three Lok Sabha Elections (2004–14)

556

668

2009

2014

296 (55) 213 (39) 175 (32) 368

330

247

79 (32) 151 (46) 176 (48)

Source: Election Commission statistical data for 2004, 2009, and 2014 Lok Sabha elections.

355

2004

168 (68) 179 (54) 192 (52)

1.81

1.68

1.44

Election No. of Women No. of Contests No. of Contests No. of Multi-women No. of Contests No. of Women Year Candidates with No Women with at Least One Contests (%) with One Woman Candidates Per Overall Candidates (% of Woman Candidate Candidate (%) Contest, at Least One Total Contests) Woman Candidate

Table 3.3

Contesting Elections

101

However, there were also several high-profile contests between men and women candidates, such as between Rahul Gandhi (INC) and Smriti Irani (BJP) in Gandhi’s incumbent constituency of Amethi. In 2014 AAP women candidates outside Delhi demonstrated that despite not always garnering enough votes to be placed in the top three, the party attracted high media visibility because of its success in Delhi and because some candidates, such as Medha Patkar, were already well known to the public. Focusing on the top three vote winners in multi-women contests— winner, runner-up, and third place—gives a sense of far fewer rival women contests than we might expect or are led to believe in from the media focus. Of the 45 women who won in 2004, around a quarter (11) were in seats where women also secured the second and/or third places in the same constituency. In 2009 this declined to around a fifth of women winners (12 of 58). In 2014 the downward trend continued to just over a tenth (7 of 62 women winners). This is to be expected with the expansion of women’s candidacy, and further suggests that the notion of a ‘ladies constituency’ is on the decline and that women are increasingly winning against men rather than other women candidates. This provides further evidence to parties of the futility of their risk aversion to nominating women candidates. With the future possibility of reserved seats in Parliament and the risk that women’s nomination is limited to only those constituencies reserved for women, it may serve as important historical evidence that women won against men and did not need to be pitted only against other women in order to win. Uneven Opportunities for Women’s Candidacy across Indian States

Aggregate national figures for nomination of women candidates obscure the fact that opportunities for women’s candidacy are highly uneven across states in India (Spary, 2014b). In the 2014 election, for example, more than half of BJP’s women candidates were fielded in just three states: Gujarat (4), Madhya Pradesh (5), and Uttar Pradesh (11) (Spary,

in 2014 (Mahajan won); INC’s incumbent MP, Krishna Tirath, defeated BJP’s Meena Kanwaria, a former mayor of Delhi, in 2009 in North West Delhi, and again in 2009, in the North East; Agatha Sangma (Nationalist Congress Party [NCP]) defeated Deborah Marak (INC) in Tura, Meghalaya.

102

Performing Representation

2014a). While Gujarat and Madhya Pradesh were BJP stronghold states, the likelihood of the party’s success in Uttar Pradesh was uncertain. If BJP fared poorly in Uttar Pradesh, the number of women candidates elected to the Lok Sabha could have been severely affected (discussed further later in the chapter). The Congress was also uneven in its nomination of women across states, but less so compared to BJP. However, only one woman candidate was nominated by the Congress in Maharashtra, a state with 48 Lok Sabha seats, and she was the incumbent MP (Priya Dutt). The near absence of women candidates in particular states also raises questions about the nature of party politics in that state. In the case of a large state such as Maharashtra, gender norms in party politics in the state may possess greater explanatory power than the size of the state (discussed later). What role does the party’s state unit play in the recruitment and nomination of women candidates? Are parties at all concerned about the absence of nominated women candidates? Again, we might ask whether senior women leaders can convince state units to nominate more women.16 It is also increasingly recognized that some states and regions offer few opportunities for women in electoral politics, regardless of the party. Kerala has some of the highest gender equality indicators in the country but strong gender norms hinder women’s participation in party structures and political institutions (Jeffrey, 1992; Devika and Thampi, 2012). The North East has also historically seen few women contesting for major political parties in the region or elected to the Lok Sabha. Limited regional opportunities may also result from the lack of women nominated by dominant parties in the region despite women’s

16 BJP’s proportionally higher number of women candidates in Madhya Pradesh in 2014 may have been aided by experienced BJP parliamentarians Sushma Swaraj (foreign minister) and Sumitra Mahajan (speaker of Lok Sabha), both of whom are elected from that state; senior journalist Kalyani Shankar notes that ‘Sushma strives for the inclusion of more women at the time of ticket distribution’ (Shankar, 2013: 231). While this would not explain the historically lower proportion of women in the state legislative assembly in the state (Jaffrelot, 2009), the presence of women in state politics in Madhya Pradesh has been rising in recent years: in the 2008 and 2013 assembly elections the proportion of women candidates elected to the assembly rose from single figures to 11 and 13 per cent respectively. Whether this can be attributed to the influence of these senior women MPs in the party or another factor is a question for further research.

Contesting Elections

103

activity in other spheres of political activism and tiers of representative politics. Since elections in 1991, only 12 women have been elected from the 7 states in the North East, 8 of these from the largest state, Assam. The Mizoram Lok Sabha constituency has never been represented by a woman. The only woman MP for Nagaland to date was Rano Shaiza (1977). She saw her election in 1977 as unusual as it took place at a time when men had been detained for questioning or had gone underground at the time of the movement for an independent Nagaland (Dutta, 2013). Only one woman each has been elected from Sikkim and Tripura, both in 1991. The woman MP from Sikkim, Dil Kumar Bhandari, had previously been elected in a bye-election when her husband was elected as chief minister in 1985. She represented Sikkim in the 8th and 10th Lok Sabhas. In recent years, a group of Naga women’s organizations protested against the state government’s refusal to implement constitutionally mandated reservations for women in municipal bodies. The state government cited Article 371(A) of the Constitution protecting customary law in Nagaland (The Shillong Times, 2012). The objections to women’s reservation from the apex tribal body in the state, the Naga Hoho, have been seen as influential (Times of India, 2012c; see also Dzuvichu [2016] for a longer discussion). In 2014, 22 women were among 238 Lok Sabha candidates contesting in the 7 North Eastern states, 2 of whom were elected. The majority (16) were from the larger state of Assam. No women contested in Arunachal Pradesh, Mizoram, and Nagaland. Of the remaining six women candidates, four contested as independents. Of the seven parties which won seats in the North East, only BJP and Congress fielded women candidates. Do Seat Sharing Alliances Limit Opportunities for Women Candidates?

With the rise of state-based parties, scholars of Indian politics have come to accept the centrality of coalitions to electoral politics and governance in India.17 However, do seat-sharing arrangements affect

17 The 2014 election outcome of an outright BJP majority, however, led some scholars and political analysts to initially suggest that the rulebooks of Indian politics would have to be rewritten. In hindsight, the consolidated view was that this was not an end to the regionalization of Indian politics and that regional parties were largely resilient to the BJP wave in 2014 (Tillin, 2015).

104

Performing Representation

the nomination of women candidates? While parties may, in any case, not contest nor expect to win, seats across the whole of the ‘district’ or state, seat-sharing alliances within states mean fewer seats are available to any given party in that state.18 Alliance partners agree to share the constituencies and not to field candidates in the constituencies allocated to their coalition partner. With fewer seats available, senior party leaders will consequently be prioritized for nominations. Notwithstanding some senior women regional party leaders, party leadership in general is male dominated. Less senior party leaders will lose out when seats are scarce (unless parties opt for a ‘fresh faces’ strategy where new aspirants are prioritized). While both men and women candidates might lose out as a result of seat-sharing alliances, we should be concerned about the reduction of an already small pool of women candidates, which parties regularly cite as a reason why they did not nominate more women. A thorough test of this dynamic is not possible here, and in any case internal party discussions are often inaccessible. However, examples from the 2014 election suggest that seat-sharing alliances did affect some women candidates; when fewer seats were available they went to party elites who were almost invariably male. In Tamil Nadu, for example, the 18 Theories of district magnitude suggest that larger districts offer more opportunities for women, and minority candidates are relevant to proportional representation electoral systems rather than single-member district systems like India’s (Rule, 1987; Norris, 2006). Under this system, women and ethnic minority candidates have a better chance of securing nomination where there are more seats in any given constituency unit because with every additional seat another senior leader can be accommodated, eventually creating opportunities for less senior aspirants. Conversely, ‘where the choices are among a small number of candidates, the stakes are higher … and it is more difficult for women to obtain party nomination’ (Rule, 1987: 484). Parties have an incentive to ‘create a balanced list of candidates, to avoid any electoral penalties from the appearance of discrimination against any particular group’ (Rule, 1987: 210). However, in a single-member district system like India’s, the argument is that there is no such local incentive to contribute to a socially balanced profile of candidates at the national level (Norris, 2006: 210). Instead, we would suggest that the structure of state-level government can produce a ‘district’ or state magnitude-like effect, because for both national parties and state-level parties, elections tend to be organized on a state-by-state basis, and there is evidence that parties are concerned to balance the social composition of their candidates in a given state, particularly along caste, if not gender, considerations. Seat-sharing alliances affect the party magnitude inside any given state.

Contesting Elections

105

seven parties making up the NDA alliance in the state did not field a single woman candidate in 39 seats. A BJP state party official attributed this to the small number of seats they were contesting, suggesting this made it difficult to field women candidates. NDA alliance partners, the DMK and Paattali Makkall Katchi (PMK), attributed this to ‘lack of good women candidates and pressure to accommodate senior leaders’ (Jagannath, 2014). In the Bihar state elections of 2015, the proportion of women candidates took a dip by several percentage points as a result of the formation of the Mahagathbandhan or Grand Alliance formed to fight the BJP-led NDA (Rao, 2015). Women losing out to seat-sharing alliances also manifests itself at the local level despite gender quotas. Bedi’s study of local Shiv Sena women representatives and party workers expressed frustration when BJP’s aspiring women candidates were chosen as the BJP–Shiv Sena alliance candidates in areas nurtured by local Shiv Sena women (Bedi, 2016). This suggests that the increasing centrality of coalition politics can result in inadvertent negative consequences for women’s participation: when seats are scarce, the already limited opportunities for women are reduced further. The Gender Politics of ‘New’ Parties: Women Candidates and the Aam Aadmi Party

If established parties continue to offer women candidates limited opportunities at election time, do new parties offer greater opportunities for women’s political participation? Scholars and analysts of gender and electoral politics have suggested that new parties or new circumstances brought about by, for example, constitutional changes can potentially offer greater opportunities for women who are usually new entrants. This is because posts within the party organization as well as political networks and constituency links, which tend to be male dominated, are not as entrenched and exclusionary as they are in older more established parties or because there are active efforts to modernize party procedures in such parties. ‘New’ may also be interpreted in a different way to provide a break with the past and to signal a new way of performing politics. This would not require the establishment of a new party but might open up opportunities for ‘fresh faces’ to contest elections (see Kenny and Mackay [2014: 868–9] for an excellent discussion of different contributing dynamics).19 19

However, Kenny and Mackay (2014) also note that the gains in women’s political participation in the Scottish parliament arising from devolution and

106

Performing Representation

The opportunities for aspiring women in India have been mixed. New parties have often been formed on the basis of a faction within a party splitting and forming a new party. This has meant that the opportunities for women in ‘new’ parties are still limited by established gender hierarchies within existing party factions. Some opportunities for women have been provided in the past by ‘new’ parties at the state level such as the Desiya Murpokku Dravida Kazhagam (DMDK) in Tamil Nadu, which before its first assembly election in 2006 promised that women would form 40 to 50 per cent of its candidates (Wyatt, 2009: 172); however, it actually only managed 7 per cent, 16 out of 232 candidates (ECI, 2006). In the Andhra Pradesh state assembly elections in 2009, a new party, the Praja Rajyam (People’s Rule), did a little better. The party had been formed the year before by Chiranjeevi, a popular Telugu actor, and contested 288 seats (out of a maximum of 294). Of these, 34 were women candidates or just under 12 per cent. Perhaps the most significant ‘new’ party in recent years has been AAP. The electoral debut of AAP in December 2013 saw it win a remarkable number of seats in the Delhi assembly election. The party emerged from an anticorruption movement popular in Delhi, which was protesting the various corruption controversies plaguing the then UPA-led government, and performed stunningly well in both 2013 and again in 2015 elections on the same platform. The entry of AAP reinvigorated interest in party politics and governance among the average voter and stimulated engagement and interest for many reasons. However, in the national election to the Lok Sabha in 2014 it did not do so well. It only managed to secure the runners-up position in the seven seats in Delhi, and it won only 4 of the 432 constituencies it contested nationwide, all of which were in the state of Punjab. AAP’s entry into national politics in the 2014 election provides insights into the limits of the ‘new politics’ it offered, specifically in terms of giving opportunities to more women to participate in electoral politics, including as election candidates. AAP nominated 59 women out of a total of 432 candidates (ECI, 2014) or approximately 12 per cent; although hardly breakthrough numbers, this figure still represented the second largest number of women candidates of any party

Labour party efforts to include more women have not spread to other parties in Scotland or in Westminster nor have they endured over time; a similar dynamic can be observed in the Indian case (see above and Chapter 9 where we discuss sustainability).

Contesting Elections

107

in the 2014 Lok Sabha election after the Congress. More than numbers though, it fielded many high-profile women who were respected and established in their fields, including social activists and writers as well as professionals in business and journalism. These included Meera Sanyal, former chair of Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS), India, contesting from Mumbai South, former journalist and AAP spokesperson Shazia Ilmi, and author Sarah Joseph, contesting from Thrissur in Kerala. Also, well-known human rights activists such as Medha Patkar and Soni Sori contested from Mumbai North East (Maharashtra) and Bastar (Chhattisgarh) respectively, among others. This provided an opening for a different group of politically informed women candidates who may not have otherwise contested or may have previously contested as independents (as Meera Sanyal had in 2009), in both cases rejecting established political parties. Though AAP gained very few seats in the end, it became valuable political experience for these candidates, and publicity for the agendas and causes they represent. At the same time, AAP attracted criticism for its disregard for gender-inclusive politics both prior to and after the 2014 election. For example, Madhu Bhaduri, one of the founding members of AAP, was reportedly disappointed with the response of the AAP-led administration in the Delhi state government20 to the Khirki extension raid in 2014 in which a number of female African nationals were subjected to degrading treatment. When she suggested that the party issue an apology to these women, Bhaduri was reportedly heckled. She subsequently disassociated herself from the party and was quoted as saying, ‘The party has a mentality of a khap panchayat. There is no space for women. If the other women leaders have any self-respect, they will quit too’ (S. Ghosh, 2014; see also Indian Express, 2014). Subsequent to the 2014 election the party has not been immune to criticism testing its claim of offering a ‘new politics’. Thus far we have analysed statistical data to show how women fare in elections and what political factors affect this. However rich these statistics, they rarely convey the human experiences of contesting elections, including the performative labour involved in participating and winning elections. These statistics paint the big picture and allow us to compare across space and time. But understanding the rich complexity of the gender politics of elections requires a complementary lens, one that is 20 The sub-national government of Delhi is not technically a ‘state’ government but a National Capital Territory of Delhi, though various NCT administrations have sought to be recognized as a fully-fledged state within the Union.

108

Performing Representation

more ethnographic and anthropological and focuses on the everyday performances, the material experiences of elections (M. Banerjee, 2014; Singer, 2007). In the following sections we use this lens to understand what lies behind the statistical data discussed till now. The Performative Labour of the Election Campaign

Undoubtedly elections in India, as elsewhere, require that candidates be physically, emotionally, mentally, and financially resilient. Elections present a steep learning curve and are hugely demanding, particularly for first-time candidates: candidates have to traverse large territories, over an extensive campaign period with long days in sometimes inhospitable and uncomfortable sites and with little sleep. They need stamina to meet large numbers of people in a range of environments from huge rallies to one-on-one meetings and door-to-door canvassing. As one woman MP recounted: I had a constituency that was 270 km in length—it was physically exhausting! There is no other link between areas except roads—you are travelling constantly—cover 250 km a day on bad roads. You have to do different travel as part of the Parliament constituency—two and half hour flights and road—but then you are worrying about what the reaction would be in the constituency. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

In all of this, pitching the performance right is crucial. A candidate may need to learn a new language, be aware of their dressing the part depending on the constituency they are given, stay in unfamiliar locations, and eat and drink as and when they get a chance. As another woman MP told us, ‘Both sides [of the electorate] adjusted: when I joined politics I started wearing sari and sindhur [vermillion]—but they also accept that I wear trousers’ when at home (MP32, 1 March 2006). For some, public speaking under these conditions can also generate anxiety. Despite coming from a royal background, Gayatri Devi recalls a meeting with enormous crowds, where she wanted to make the speech of her life but it ended up being her worst because she was so ‘afraid and anxious’ (Devi, 1995: 299). Despite the challenges, some women MPs also speak enthusiastically about how gruelling election campaigns can be: ‘[I]t was a great experience and very tough because you can only sleep 3–4 hours a night continuously for like a month. So it’s … a huge challenge to you physically, mentally, intellectually, because you are also planning your campaign. So

Contesting Elections

109

it was a learning experience’ (MP10, 14 May 2015). One former woman MP was relieved when polling day arrived: ‘I had no idea of the physical strain involved in a Parliamentary election … I cannot express the sense of relief I felt the moment campaigning stopped … I came home … lay down in my bed and fell fast asleep’ (K. Bose, 2008: 84, 88). As always, class background matters; for women candidates from middle- to upperclass and often urban backgrounds campaigning can come as quite a shock. Gayatri Devi spoke of the contrast between the different fields of electoral politics and campaigning and her previous social life: After such tours I would return to Rajmahal [palace] exhausted, dusty, wanting nothing so much as a civilized bath and sleep, to find guests— sometimes VIPs—assembled for a dinner party. I was well past apologizing for my dishevelled appearance and I sometimes had a drink with them and then went up to bed … The only emotion I was capable of registering was relief to be in clean, comfortable surroundings. I was quite unable to conduct the ordinary small talk that had been a requisite of so much of my social life. If anything, I kept thinking of how much I longed to take all our friends to show them this other life that I was discovering. Occasionally I tried to describe it—without too much success—and was met for the most part with blank or indulgent attitudes of incredulity. (Devi, 1995: 293)

If class matters, so does the party; cadre-based parties, for example, can provide strong support to candidates. Malini Bhattacharya, who first contested election as a CPI (M) candidate in 1989 in West Bengal explained: Election campaigns do have a different dynamic for women particularly in the Left parties, because our mode of campaign is different. A candidate can be staying and moving around in remote rural areas without any urban facilities whatsoever. I shall never forget the overwhelming experience of rural hospitality in the homes of comrades who were small peasants or agricultural labourers. (Written correspondence, 6 June 2015)

Women candidates often reflected on the hospitality of their constituents; as one national party MP explained: I reached meetings … and I was running like 5 hours late, and it was pouring and when I went there everybody was standing there in all this slush and they welcomed me with three songs they’d composed for me … And I thought to myself that this country is great because what generally gets highlighted is that politicians are like this and all of the negative things. But there are actually a lot of people out there who love us, and

110

Performing Representation

have expectations of us, and who have faith in us and I think that’s the beauty, it’s not always negative. You know, imagine going to a meeting five hours late, and they’re sitting in the rain and waiting. So they have a lot of pride in us. Connect to the people matters a lot in this country … [I]n five years you’ve met a lot of people so connecting to the people is the foundation of our politics. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

One way of negotiating campaigning is to domesticate it; many women MPs evoke family ties as metaphors for their relationship with their constituencies: First time I went to my husband’s constituency—I never felt it was a constituency … I always felt it was my home. The people gave me so much affection—my honeymoon was spent in this constituency for 8 days. People gave me money—from Rs 2 to 21; I felt so touched—they wanted to see who this Punjabi girl is? They accepted me as their bahu [daughter-in-law]—where there is love then cultural differences don’t matter. (MP32, 1 March 2006)

This kind of personal contact during elections carries deep significance for voters: ‘Voters deeply appreciate the levelling effect that election campaigns have on the powerful when, in a period of role reversal, however temporary, politicians have to beg for votes and get their spotless clothes soiled in the heat and dust of the campaign battle’ (M. Banerjee, 2014: 36). Women candidates have to be well prepared—and here too class and education matters, although they do not always protect these women from the rigours of campaigning. A campaign survival pack may contain, for example, water, nuts, dry fruits, and buttermilk which ‘is very good for the heat’, said one woman MP (MP11, 30 March 2014). Flat comfortable shoes or chappals are also crucial. One of the most important issues for middle-class women candidates is accessing public toilets—the poor conditions of these, combined with class and caste considerations mean that often women try not to use these, which may cause health problems, as the NCP’s Supriya Sule discovered in April 2015. She was campaigning for a candidate when she fainted on the podium in the middle of her speech. Several months later at a public function, she explained she had been severely dehydrated as a result of lack of access to a bathroom: ‘I realised I hadn’t had water for 18 hours. I was in Sangli at a rally and wasn’t sure of the bathroom situation’ (Economic Times, 2015). She was asked about the incident by fellow parliamentarian Sushma Swaraj a few days later, who told her she had ‘faced a similar situation once for the same reason’ (Economic Times, 2015).

Contesting Elections

111

Election campaigning can push gender norms of sociability and proximity, even conservative notions of ‘chastity’ (S. Banerjee, 2007), where women candidates often have to share what are considered to be private physical spaces in a male-dominated electioneering environment. This can be an obstacle for women much more than it is for men. Journalist Sunetra Choudhary remarked in her travelogue of the 2009 election how this became very apparent to her in the context of going to interview a woman candidate and ex-minister in Jharkhand, contesting on a BJP ticket: We went in and found at least five men cramped into a small room watching TV. As there were only two chairs three of them were sprawled out on the bed. Initially I thought that Draupadi Murmu was in a separate room and this room was for her aides. But the men signalled for us to wait there. Most of them went out and it was only then that I saw a curtained-off area of the room, the dressing area. Draupadi Murmu was in there. Below the knee length curtain, I could see her adjusting her sari. As she took her time getting ready I wondered how women politicians like her maintained their privacy. After all, most aides tend to be male and sometimes they totally call the shots. I work with male colleagues all the time but I still wouldn’t be able to get used to having a crowd of them hanging about my room at all times. (Choudhary, 2010: 244–5)

Even when performing duties as an elected representative, this can take its toll; so without the authority of an incumbent position these issues are really difficult for aspiring women candidates. An elected woman MLA from Maharashtra recounted uncomfortable experiences, having to carefully plan trips to the state capital, fears about her own safety staying in MLA quarters in Mumbai, and greater than usual attention given to interactions with male colleagues for fear of damaging her reputation, opting instead to have a male relative accompany her (Kishwar, discussed in S. Banerjee, 2007: 47).21 Singer similarly notes that in Bihar’s political culture it was appropriate for women candidates to travel with male relatives and advisers, and according to a party officer in Karnataka, this also made elections more expensive for women 21 In discussing this example, Banerjee observed that as a researcher she has been subject to inappropriate advances by male politicians: ‘A substantial portion of these MLAs at the end of the interview made inappropriate, even lewd, proposals. After several unpleasant encounters, I hired a male assistant to accompany me. Since then I have not interviewed a man alone, either an assistant or my husband accompanies me’ (S. Banerjee, 2007: 56fn39).

112

Performing Representation

compared to men (2007: 166, 200); this of course also underlines our argument in Chapter 2 about the varied need for family support and financial resources. Thus by participating in electoral politics, women politicians are constantly aware of, and wary about, reputational damage and character assassination, and may compensate for it by relying on male companions, something which male politicians rarely have to consider (S. Banerjee, 2007: 48). At the same time, women candidates can also provide increased opportunities for women party workers, who will often accompany them to local meetings of women voters and make speeches in favour of the candidate or may lead a procession through the neighbourhood to noisily announce the presence of their candidate.22 In 2014, women party supporters in a south Delhi neighbourhood waited in anticipation for their candidate for several hours, and when the moment came, they marched in a colourful procession with party scarves and flowers, accompanied by beating drums and shouting slogans (fieldnotes, 2014; see Figures 3.4, 3.5, and 3.6). Visibility is incredibly important during an election campaign. Candidates have to give the impression ‘of being everywhere at once, of not neglecting any corner of their constituencies and of willingness to listen to all manner of complaints and demands’ (M. Banerjee, 2014: 59). Election campaigning involves the performance of affect: of trying to make voters like you, develop rapport, and build a sense of personal touch and availability. As one woman MP explained: It’s not good enough for us to debate on two occasions on tax and foreign policy; you have to go to people’s homes when you campaign, and know everybody by first name … You have to make your constituents believe that you’ll stand by them not just on policy matters. If someone dies we go to their house, we attend weddings. So our public touch plays a very significant role in our victory or defeat, I feel. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

As another former woman Congress MP, Priya Dutt, remarked in reference to dynastic politics: People are not naive any more. They have tremendous awareness … they are not going to vote for you because you are an actor or because you are somebody’s son or daughter. They are going to vote for you if they have 22

Ghosh and Lama-Rewal (2005: 100) make a similar point in the context of Kolkata municipal corporation elections.

Contesting Elections

113

Figure 3.4 A TMC Candidate Campaigning in South Delhi in 2014 (top) and the Candidate’s Election Leaflet (bottom)

Source: Carole Spary.

114

Performing Representation

Figure 3.5 Election Campaign Resources and Publicity for a BJP Candidate in South Delhi in 2014

Source: Carole Spary.

Contesting Elections

Figure 3.6

115

AAP Candidate Campaigning in Mumbai, 2014

Source: Carole Spary. seen you work before or because they believe you are capable of working for them. (Priya Dutt, cited in Rediff, 2005)

As we noted in Chapter 2, balancing of social reproductive labour and public roles involves engaging in gendered negotiations in a way that men are rarely confronted with. Election campaigns are particularly challenging in this regard. Priya Dutt was heavily pregnant when

116

Performing Representation

she contested a Lok Sabha bye-election resulting from the death of her father, Sunil Dutt. Filing her nomination papers at the time her baby was due, she was back on the campaign trail only 10 days after giving birth via an unplanned caesarean section (Rediff, 2005). She enlisted the support of her older sister to help care for the house and baby, and her husband took several months off work, supporting her campaign from behind the scenes and helping to reduce her workload so that she could spend time with her baby (Rediff, 2005). She compared politics to motherhood remarking, Politics is very much like being a first-time mother. Pregnancy and delivery is the easy part; once the baby comes, you instinctively know what to do and what not to do. Politics, I think, is very similar. This is the easy part, the elections. The work starts after that and you have to be very focused in what you want to do. (Rediff, 2005)

Similarly, said an MP, ‘My daughter was 7 months when I fought my election—my sister was like mother to her. Now I take her with me—I stay in the circuit house and I have a maid who looks after her’ (MP32, 1 March 2006). Women MPs may need to take children along on their campaign trails, especially if the itinerary means not returning in the evening or not seeing family on consecutive days. The public Facebook profile of a Congress party candidate from West Bengal, Mausam Noor, showed photos of her taking her young son out with her on the campaign trail (Mausam Noor, Facebook post, 1 April 2014). Family support is critical for campaigning and functioning as an MP, which can disrupt gender norms in interesting ways. In one metro constituency, the husband of a candidate remarked jokingly that it was now common to refer to him as Mr [wife’s surname] (fieldnotes, March 2014). Performing Gender Politics: Sexism, Misogyny, and Sexual/GenderBased Violence in Election Campaigns

As if elections were not gruelling enough on their own, women candidates often face gendered forms of violence, be it sexism and misogyny, which becomes particularly evident during election campaigns. The threat of, and sometimes the exercise of, violence—verbal or physical—against women in politics is a significant deterrent to women’s participation. A 2014 report distinguishes between violence in politics and violence against women in politics noting that the latter is ‘used to reinforce traditional social and political structures by targeting women leaders who

Contesting Elections

117

challenge patriarchy and prevailing social expectations and norms. ‘It restricts women’s mobility and capacity to participate within the political sphere’ (CSR and UN, 2014: 5). These can take the form of ‘low-level’ derogatory comments about women candidates on the campaign trail and sometimes threats of or actual physical violence (Kumari, 2011). While recognizability is an asset for political parties, actors can attract abuse and their political credibility can be undermined: BJP MP Smriti Irani has attracted derisive comments for her former role as a television serial actress and was also reportedly subject to an attack on her origin, via a reference to her surname Irani (not a traditional Hindu name), by another candidate contesting for AAP in Amethi (LiveMint, 2014). She responded that she was unsurprised as based on media reports he had a history of disrespect to women (LiveMint, 2014). In the 2009 Lok Sabha election campaign, a high-profile woman candidate, Nafisa Ali Sodhi, contesting for the Samajwadi Party in Lucknow, was subjected to misogynistic insults by a BSP male candidate, Akhilesh Das Gupta (Dagar, 2011: 116), who referred to Sodhi as a white-haired woman among other derogatory comments (The Hindu, 2009a; Khan, 2009). A formal complaint was taken up by the ECI and it determined that Das Gupta had violated the model code of conduct and he was censured for his remarks (Dagar, 2011; The Hindu, 2009a); but women’s activists complained that it took almost a week for the Election Commission to take action (Tripathi, 2009). Supposedly light-hearted candidate rivalry performs, feeds, and reproduces familiar derogatory gender talk in election campaigns. In the 2014 election, two women actors from Bollywood were contesting elections in Chandigarh: Gul Panag, often photographed on a motorbike in aviator sunglasses and jeans, was contesting for AAP against Kirron Kher, the ‘conventional Indian housewife and mother’, of BJP. A public exchange on Twitter between the two candidates revolved around gender–age comparisons, in which Gul Panag suggested that at the age of 60 Kher would not have the energy to work effectively for her constituents, to which Kher replied ‘life begins at 60’ (Doga, 2014). Elsewhere, a leading English-language magazine labelled the contest as a saas–bahu (mother–daughter-in-law) contest, linking Gul Panag to Kirron Kher’s son (Bamzai, 2014). One commentator in a leading English-language newspaper described the contest as a ‘choice between youth and experience’ and described their different style of campaigning, comparing Ms Panag’s ‘youthful energy’ and accessibility through ‘roadshows in open jeeps’ and ‘selfies with star-struck people’ with Mrs Kher’s ‘starry

118

Performing Representation

mystique’ suggested by her restricted media and public interactions (Doga, 2014). These gender–age tropes are often overlooked by the Election Commission and definitely by political parties. Character assassination most often takes on gendered forms, when women may be reviled for having political ambitions or may have their respectability called into question (Kumari, 2011: 55). Class again plays a role here as does education. As one MP was at pains to underline, ‘I came through a different route; from the top [nominated by the central party organization] and not through the filth of lower level politics. Character assassination goes on all the time; good families protect their girls—others cannot’ (telephone interview, MP50, 20 March 2006). Gendered violence in the form of character assassination is not just perpetrated by opposition parties: Choudhary narrates an account of the former actress turned MP Jaya Prada being attacked by an aspirant associated with her own party by distributing explicit and allegedly morphed photos of Jaya Prada (2010: 290; see also Times of India, 2009). As another journalist explains, such tactics are not uncommon: ‘In every party, internal sabotage by competing aspirants can be the surest way to lose an election. It’s one of the reasons why the Congress tends to delay its candidate announcements to the very last minute’ (Bhartia, 2012: 12). Even when endorsed by a major party, candidates may find campaigning difficult. As one of our interviewees told us: I had to overcome a lot of adversity in my own state because there were certain senior leaders in influential positions who could create problems for me—and they did … they said I was young; also I had direct access here [the central Congress party]; some state leaders don’t like that; they want control—you should do as they say. Because of my caste—I come from SC community—but I am better educated … and they were jealous of someone who has better future. (MP22, 2 December 2005)

Among women, some experience it in more extreme or different ways than others. Asha Kotwal, general secretary of the All India Dalit Women Rights Forum, notes that at the local level, Dalit women can face a combination of both caste and sexual harassment (cited in Majumdar, 2014; see also Buch, 2006). Senior left leader and former MP Brinda Karat notes ‘the contempt and sexist comments made against [Dalit women] were much worse [than against upper-caste women]’ (Karat, 2005: 124).23 23 However, see also Ciotti (2017a: 194), who argues that BSP women at the grassroots have successfully negotiated a buffer from such violence.

Contesting Elections

119

Choudhary reflects on what the case of Jaya Prada and others suggest about women opting for a political career: [This is] the cost that women have to pay to take up public life. They say that in India no one cares about the personal life of a politician but that statement should be amended—no one cares about the personal life of male politicians, how many mistresses they have, who they are going out with, how they treat their family. When it comes to women however it’s all fair game. (2010: 292–3)

According to another senior journalist, Kalyani Shankar, slander of women candidates goes all the way to the top, to the presidential election of the first woman president of India. She recounts that when the Congress nominated Pratibha Patil as their presidential candidate, ‘the BJP was not sure how to oppose a woman candidate; therefore, it dug up whatever dirt it could find on Pratibha Patil … While Sonia and the Left touted the gender advantage, the BJP made personal attacks on the presidential candidate. Never before had a presidential election became [sic] so sordid, but ultimately Patil was elected’ (Shankar, 2013: 73). As we can see then, it takes ambition, courage, persistence, and family support for women to stand for office in India. Future Prospects

Many lament the snail-like pace of the incremental growth in women’s presence in Parliament over time. In 2014 the proportion of women in the Lok Sabha had not even reached double of what it was more than 50 years ago in 1962, a mere 6 per cent. Because elections are currently the most important institutional entry point for increasing the presence of women in Parliament, it is even more alarming when the results of an election show a fall in the proportion of women MPs. After a peak of over 6 per cent in 1962, women’s presence in the Lok Sabha declined throughout the 1960s and 1970s until the 1980 election, rising in 1984 but dropping again in 1989. It rose once more during the 1990s until 2004, when it dropped. In 2014 there was a real chance that the proportion of women MPs could have declined in the 16th Lok Sabha if BJP had performed worse than it did in Uttar Pradesh where it had nominated many of its women candidates. Furthermore, BJP could not have relied on many of its allies to bump up the numbers as parties like the Shiv Sena and TDP nominated few women. As Brinda Karat remarks, ‘The question of reservation has arisen only because of the

120

Performing Representation

failure of political parties, with no exceptions, to give fair representation to women … no political party is prepared to voluntarily give more than a token number of tickets to women’ (Karat, 2005: 126–7). In Figure 3.7 we have presented three different forecasts for how long it might take women to reach a third of seats in the Lok Sabha in the absence of quotas and using the incremental track method based on previous elections. The average growth rate of women MPs in Parliament, although strongly fluctuating in some years, has been approximately 10 per cent at each election, over the 15 elections since 1957 (in some years women’s presence actually declined, whereas in 1980 and 1984/85 the proportion of women MPs grew by 50 per cent). Our most optimistic forecast (‘projected’), based on this average 10 per cent increase in each election, suggests that it will take at least another 11 elections before women occupy a third of the seats in the Lok Sabha. If we assume, as the last 60 years of elections suggest, an average of just under 4 years per general election, this will take 44 years (reflected in Figure 3.7). If we assume a maximum government term of 5 years, it will take even longer—55 years. In the absence of legal gender quotas, this is probably

Figure 3.7 Forecasting Growth of Women MPs in the Lok Sabha in the Absence of Quotas

Source: Calculated by the authors on the basis of historical data provided in ECI reports.

Contesting Elections

121

the most optimistic forecast, not least because it assumes that the rate of growth at which women MPs are elected to Parliament is not subject to an invisible cap in response to a sense of anxiety on the part of institutional ‘insiders’ that they are being ‘swamped’ by newcomers (Puwar, 2004). Our other trend lines suggest that in another 11 general elections in India, women’s presence will still be just under today’s current world average of 23 per cent (as at September 2017). Successive elections have shown that there is nothing ‘natural’ about the slow incremental progress of women’s increasing political representation in the national Parliament. The importance of internal party pressure and external public pressure on political parties to nominate women candidates, and in winnable seats, cannot be underestimated. This requires sustained performative labour of those willing to speak up within parties in support of women’s inclusion, but more commonly, within the women’s movement and those advocating for democratic reforms. *** Women candidates and MPs are undoubtedly a diverse rather than a homogeneous group, but their under-representation as a group in the Lok Sabha signals the gendered structural barriers still embedded in electoral politics in India. Juxtaposed with the increasing presence of women via quotas at panchayat and municipal corporation levels, the small presence of women in the Lok Sabha and state assemblies is increasingly becoming an anomaly. As was seen in 2014, sweeping political changes nationally do not necessarily entail broad and significant changes for women’s presence in Parliament, notwithstanding some minor exceptions. Aggregate statistics on the proportion of women elected in any given election gloss over a whole series of interesting dynamics within parties and across sub-national states. Broad patterns of women’s under-representation can be discerned from analysing election data, but a closer examination of individual candidate stories provides complementary and sometimes contradictory insights, providing more colour to the black and white of statistical data. While internal party debates about nominating women candidates are often an inaccessible ‘secret garden’ (see Bjarnegård and Kenny, 2016), occasionally these are exposed in the stories behind individual candidates, negotiations over nominations, and the struggles of election campaigns. Changes in the party system and voting patterns need to be analysed with attention to their gendered dynamics.

122

Performing Representation

Elections are highly performative events: performances of democracy, citizenship, representation, leadership, and labour. They are highly demanding of candidates. They can be exhilarating and life-changing experiences. However, they are clearly not immune to forms of institutional exclusion, both in terms of everyday experiences and structural dynamics. Successful candidates take pride in their victory—MPs’ testimonies of the oath/affirmation ceremony that formally inducts them into Parliament are testament to this. Some candidates thrive on the energy of election campaigns, and prefer it to the relatively more routine, predictable, and low-key participation in legislative debates. Others are thankful for the latter and grateful for the break! Either way, newly elected MPs have to shift from the performative labour of election campaigns to a different kind of performative labour as an elected representative for the next foreseeable five years, preparing for and speaking in debates, asking questions, contributing to or chairing committees, alongside continued participation in their party organization, and all the new tasks that the status of an MP brings such as international conferences and supporting state assembly candidates. Unsuccessful candidates can file it under political experience and hope for another chance in a few years’ time; some among them may be rewarded sooner for their campaign performance or sacrifice. Successful candidates will have a limited time in which to make good on their campaign promises before returning to voters to again ask for their votes, if they are lucky to be re-nominated again, a topic to which we return in Chapter 9. In the next chapter the focus shifts from elections to the elected— who are the women who get elected? What is their social profile and does this affect what they do in Parliament?

4

Representative Women? Presence and Performance of Intersectionality

Under different circumstances, and given different kinds of political mobilisation, ‘people’ identify and come together as ‘dalits’, ‘Muslims’, ‘working class’, or much less often, as ‘women’. This is the difficult political fact to face—that women coming together as upper caste/dalit may not necessarily be coming together as upper caste/dalit women. (Menon, 2004: 179) There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives. (Lorde, 2007: 138)

iven the struggles for greater presence of women in Parliament, the question has often been asked: who are the women MPs and who do they represent? As noted in the Introduction, the claims that women activists and indeed women politicians make for the importance of women in Parliament have ranged from descriptive (the proportion of women citizens: women representatives) to functional (that women do politics differently) and normative (that justice demands the erasure of structural impediments to women’s participation in politics). This chapter examines these claims by outlining the social profiles of women in the Indian Parliament. We pay close attention to the intersectional profile of women MPs, organized by socio-economic categories of caste, class, religion, region, age, marital status, occupational background, and more. In doing so, we also recognize the need to complicate and critically interrogate such socio-economic categories to understand what they mean

G

Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0005

124

Performing Representation

for representativeness: what are their symbolic effects in terms of the embodiment of these identities and resulting perceptions of inclusion and exclusion, institutional legitimacy and democratic deficits, and the achievement or elusiveness of ‘authenticity’, particularly in the intersection of multiple identities. Because women are a minority in Parliament, the extent to which they can represent the diversity of women in India is already limited. Their intersectional representativeness thus impacts the range of representative claims they can make; their diversity (or lack of ) can increase (or reduce) the resources they possess for making representative claims (Saward, 2010). An intersectional analysis of women’s under-representation also makes visible the marginal position of women from particular social groups, which is not as visible when taking a social group as a whole. The chapter also analyses these claims in terms of the performative: How do women represent? What performative tropes are employed by women in Parliament to underpin the claims of representation? What do these tropes tell us about Parliament as an institution, about political parties which are such important gatekeepers in politics and about the negotiated positions that women have to occupy in and outside Parliament to secure their claims? We explore representation as a constructed process of performances of representative claims (Saward, 2010) while recognizing that presence is also important for symbolic reasons. We focus on representative claims made in institutional profiles and in debates and on the constructions of political subjectivities on social media, at the same time paying attention to the enabling and constraining context that these platforms present to women MPs. We continue this discussion in the next chapter, focusing in particular on claims made in selected parliamentary debates.

Who Are the Women in the Indian Parliament? The literature on descriptive representation of women often focuses on issues of gender and class. The descriptors in India also include caste—both institutionally because of the reservation of seats for Dalits and those from tribal groups and also because of the debates on the WRB, outlined in Chapter 2. While individual politicians are affected by many structural and behavioural vectors, we are also aware of the importance of political parties in framing caste politics. So, descriptive markers are inherently mediated by substantive ones—the support for policies is ideology and party specific. At the same time, the power of

Representative Women?

125

performance means that those performing need to build bridges with their political audience—their constituents, the media, and their peers. Here, descriptive representation translates into specific social categories, gendered bodies, and discourses—issues of class, caste, race, sexuality, and religion matter. Below, we map the social profile of women MPs in the Indian Parliament—their caste, religion, regional concentration, class, and educational background. We do this first through analysing the quantitative data available to us and that which we have generated, and then by examining the performance of identity and its affect. The women MPs in the 10th Parliament (1994) were largely middleclass professionals, mostly from upper and middle castes, and predominantly Hindu. This position did not change significantly over the next 20 years, though the proliferation of caste-based parties led to some broadening of the class and caste base of India’s women MPs. Gender and Caste in Parliament

Caste remains an important factor in the distribution of seats and voting patterns, and, therefore, crucially affects the profiles, loyalties, and work of representatives in the Indian Parliament (see Deshpande, 2011; Verma, 2011).1 To recall, out of 543 elected seats in the Lok Sabha, 84 (15 per cent) are reserved for SC members and 47 (9 per cent) are reserved for ST members. In the most recent (16th) Lok Sabha, 12 women were elected among the 84 SC-reserved seats and 6 women were

1

Recall from Chapter 1 that the Indian postcolonial state sought to address caste-based discrimination through a policy of ‘reservations’ or a quota system for the lowest castes and indigenous groups, which the Indian Constitution refers to officially as Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (see Chapter 1). A proportion of parliamentary constituencies are reserved for SCs and STs as per the Constitution (Ninth Schedule, Article 330), and only candidates from these social groups can contest and be elected in these constituencies. These were designed as a temporary measure to address historical injustice caused by caste-based discriminatory practices, but Indian governments have repeatedly renewed provisions through constitutional amendment acts before provisions are due to expire. The only major change in recent years has been a delimitation exercise to adjust the number and location of reserved constituencies in line with changing demographics, applied in 2009, reserving some previously unreserved categories and de-reserving others, with some renaming and changes to some constituency boundaries.

126

Performing Representation

elected among the 47 ST-reserved seats (see Table 4A.1 in the appendix to this chapter for details of the 10th–16th Lok Sabhas; discussed further later). Women from the lowest castes have largely been brought into representative politics through quotas for SCs and STs. In the Lok Sabha elections of 1996 and 1998, the proportion of women MPs representing constituencies reserved for SCs dramatically increased compared to the 1991 election, doubling in percentage (see Figure 4.1). This later fell during the 13th–16th Lok Sabhas, but remained higher than the average among all SC-reserved seat MPs, men and women combined. If we combine caste and gender with regional representation, we see that the presence of women MPs from SC-reserved constituencies in the 15th Lok Sabha was confined predominantly to the northern and eastern states of India. The disproportionately higher presence of women MPs from SC-reserved constituencies renders different representational obligations for women MPs compared to men. Is this increase a direct result of Dalit mobilization and assertion since the 1980s? Not necessarily or, if at all, only indirectly. The BSP, a party originating in a movement for Dalit assertion, has historically fielded a low proportion of Dalit women candidates, resulting in few to no women MPs for this party, the exception being the party leader

Figure 4.1 Proportion of MPs Elected from SC-Reserved Lok Sabha Constituencies, 10th–16th Lok Sabha

Source: Prepared by authors based on data from the ECI reports available online.

Representative Women?

127

Mayawati’s prominent role as MP in both Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha at various times. The BSP’s four women MPs in the 15th Lok Sabha, for example, included two upper-caste women and two Muslim women; the social background of these candidates reflected Mayawati’s attempt to generate a broader coalition of electoral support. While the BSP has provided some space for increasing Dalit women’s political participation, Ciotti’s observation of BSP women at the grassroots level led her to conclude that at least at that level ‘their presence is marginal, fragmented and powerless’ though there are notable exceptions (2017: 196).2 Mainstream parties have, however, on the one hand sought to signal responsiveness to marginalized communities and on the other have combined multiple marginal identities in fielding candidates in reserved seats, while leaving caste privilege less threatened in generalcategory seats (Jensenius, 2016). For example, in the 15th Lok Sabha, among some parties such as the CPM and the Rashtriya Lok Dal (RLD), the only women elected were from an SC-reserved constituency (see Figure 4.1 and Table 4.1). Many of the women elected to SC-reserved constituencies have been senior politicians from middle to upper classes and with political family backgrounds, perhaps the most prominent being the former Congress MP Meira Kumar, elected the first female speaker of the 15th Lok Sabha in 2009, after having served as a minister in the 14th Lok Sabha. Another Dalit Congress MP, Santosh Chowdhary, served in the 11th, 13th, and 15th Lok Sabhas. She had contested elections to the 14th Lok Sabha but came second, and was instead appointed to a public commission. Former mayor of Delhi, Dr Anita Arya, served as a BJP MP in the 13th Lok Sabha. Their caste/class background and the experience they have accumulated pose interesting questions for representativeness and representative claim-making, explored further later in the chapter. The same dynamic of combining multiple ascriptive marginal identities is not necessarily observed in the case of women MPs elected to ST-reserved constituencies: the proportion of women MPs appears to have travelled in the reverse direction, from disproportionately high numbers of women in the 10th Lok Sabha to about or just below 2 See also Gorringe (2017) for a discussion on south India. In the Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK)—the political party derived from the Dalit Panthers of India—in Tamil Nadu there are very few women leaders in senior party positions and selected as parliamentary candidates (Gorringe, 2017: 265).

5

2

2

1

1

1

12

BJP

SP

SAD

RLD

CPM

Total 12/84 (14%)

(84)b

5/23 (22%) 2/13 (15%) 2/3 (67%) 1/2 (50%) 1/1 (100%) 1/1 (100%) 12/58 (21%)

30/206 (15%) 12/116 (10%) 10/23 (43%) 1/4a (25%) 1/5 (20%) 6/16 (37.5%) 84/543 (15%)

SC-Seat MPs among All Party’s MPs (%)

23/206 (11%) 13/116 (11%) 3/23 (13%) 2/4 (50%) 1/5 (20%) 1/16 (6%) 58/543 (11%)

Women MPs among All Party’s MPs (%)

Source: Calculated by the authors from Election Commission data. Notes: a Other parties with winning candidates in SC-reserved seats but no women among them include BSP (2), AIADMK (2), AITC (2), BJD (3), AIFB (1), DMK (2), JD(U) (4), CPI (2), JMM (1), TDP (1), SHS (2), VCK (1), and 1 Independent. b Plus another male MP from SC background won in a General category seat (Ferozepur).

17%

100%

100%

20%

17%

17%

6

1

1

10

12

30

SC-Seat Women MPs among All Women MPs in Party

INC

Women SC-Seat MPs among Party’s SC-Seat MPs (%)

SC Women MPs (no.)

Partya

All SC MPs

Presence of SC-Reserved Women MPs in 15th Lok Sabha, by Party

Table 4.1

Representative Women?

129

Figure 4.2 Proportion of MPs Elected from ST-Reserved Lok Sabha Constituencies, 10th–16th Lok Sabha

Source: Prepared by authors based on data from ECI reports available online.

average in the 16th Lok Sabha (see Figure 4.2), though admittedly the low number of ST-reserved seats in the Lok Sabha (47) and the even lower number of women MPs involved mean percentages are affected by small changes. Later in the chapter, we also see that Muslim women are severely under-represented in Parliament. Thus, intersecting marginal identities are only selectively utilized by parties. Moving from SCs and STs to Other Backward Classes (OBCs), the last three decades have seen the mobilization of lower castes in Indian politics, particularly in north Indian politics. Jayal (2006) calculates that OBC MPs (men and women) comprised around 19–23 per cent of Lok Sabha MPs during the 10th (1991)–14th (2004) Lok Sabhas, whereas MPs from ‘forward classes’ comprised around 49–52 per cent during the same period (the remainder comprising of SC, ST, and others). Jaffrelot (2009a: 6–8) estimates that the proportion of MPs from OBC MPs elected from the Hindi-belt states—principally Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh, and Bihar—rose considerably, from less than 5 per cent in the 1st Lok Sabha election in 1952 to about 25 per cent in 2004, with the largest jump occurring between the 1984 and 1989 elections, from 11 to 21 per cent of all Hindi-belt MPs. During this time there was a corresponding decline in the proportion

130

Performing Representation

of upper-caste MPs elected from Hindi-belt states, from around 64 per cent in 1952 to around 33 per cent in 2004 (Jaffrelot, 2009a: 6–8).3 However, in the 2009 election, this trend was reversed, and continued to decline in 2014; the proportion of OBCs in Parliament has declined and the presence of Brahmin MPs in particular increased in 2014 (Jaffrelot and Verniers, 2015). Precise numbers of OBC women MPs are harder to attain than for MPs elected to SC- and ST-reserved constituencies because they are not recorded as in the case of SC and ST MPs, and thus identification is determined more on a case-by-case basis.4 One analysis of the 15th Lok Sabha election in 2009 suggested that almost half (28 of the 58) women MPs elected in 2009 were from the ‘backward classes’, SCs, STs, and backward-class minorities combined, and just over half were from the forward classes, including Brahmins and others (Mishra, 2009). Subtracting SC- and ST-reserved women MPs (17) from this figure suggests 11 OBC women among 58 women MPs, or 19 per cent, which is at the lower end of Jayal’s figure for all OBC MPs for earlier Lok Sabhas.5 This appears to be an increase from the 10th Lok Sabha, with only two women MPs from the ‘backward’ castes. Of these one was a leader of the VHP, the Hindu fundamentalist organization associated with BJP. The other was a member of AIADMK, the ruling party in Tamil Nadu, then 3 Jaffrelot (2009a: 6–7) credits this change to the mobilization efforts of the Janata Dal and to political agitations around the Mandal Commission report. Under pressure from the political parties that sought to represent this new and increasingly militant constituency, V. P. Singh, the prime minister of India in 1990 decided to implement some of the recommendations of the Mandal Commission (report submitted in 1980) on how to address the underrepresentation of OBCs (officially ‘classes’ but this is often read as castes). 4 Determining OBC status of MPs is a complex and relatively imprecise process: groups recognized in central government lists may not always be recognized in state lists, may be added or removed over time, may be added or removed on the basis of changes in group status or political visibility (often due to group mobilization efforts), and so the status of communities can vary across states. 5 Women OBC MPs in the 15th Lok Sabha included women elected from Andhra Pradesh, Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, Gujarat, and Rajasthan; from Congress, BJP, JD(U), and Telangana Rashtra Samithi (TRS). In election news coverage, OBC status appeared to be more important to their party and election contest for some women than others, depending on the rival candidates, constituency demographics, and the level of party competition.

Representative Women?

131

led by Jayalalithaa, who initiated several women-oriented welfare and education programmes in the state. Most women MPs in the 10th Lok Sabha were members of the higher castes. In the 10th Lok Sabha (1991), Brahmins were disproportionately represented compared to their presence in the wider population: six women MPs from the Brahmin caste, or 17 per cent of the women MPs, whereas Brahmins are only 5.5 per cent of the population. Furthermore, because of a lack of intersectional analysis of electoral trends, there is a paucity of work on women OBC MPs, so it is difficult to gauge whether or not the earlier increase in the presence of OBC MPs and subsequent reversal is mirrored among women OBC MPs. This is particularly pertinent given that, as discussed in Chapter 2, the oft-made argument against the WRB, stalled for the last two decades, is that OBC women will lose out to upper-caste women if gender quotas are introduced. At the state level in Madhya Pradesh, Jaffrelot (2009b: 118) observes that ‘while the OBC and the agriculturists have benefited from the democratization of the Indian polity in Madhya Pradesh, the women and religious minorities have not’. Religious Minorities

Muslim women are woefully under-represented in the Indian Parliament. From 1952 to before the 2004 election, only eight Muslim women were elected to the Lok Sabha including some serving multiple terms (Karlekar, 2005: 240–1). Only one Muslim woman sat in the Lok Sabha in the 1990s (Noor Bano). In 1994 there were only two Muslim women MPs in the Rajya Sabha (Najma Heptulla, deputy chairperson, and Shabana Azmi, a nominated MP). From the 14th Lok Sabha onwards the prospects for Muslim women’s representation improved but only slightly. In the 14th Lok Sabha from 2004, there were three Muslim women MPs in the Rajya Sabha and two in the Lok Sabha (Mehbooba Mufti and Rubab Sayeda). In the 15th Lok Sabha there were three Muslim women, making up about 6 per cent of women MPs,6 and there were only two Muslim women MPs in the 16th Lok Sabha (2014), both

6 Begum Tabassum Hasan (BSP), Kaiser Jahan (BSP), and Mausam Noor (INC). Ranee Narah (INC) was born Jahanara Choudhary and raised as a Muslim in Assam, but changed her name to Bharat Narah upon marriage, an indigeneous tribal politician from Assam (NDTV, 2009).

132

Performing Representation

of whom were elected from West Bengal.7 At the time of writing, the two Muslim women members of the Rajya Sabha, among a total of 27 women MPs, were Kahkashan Perween (JDU, Bihar) and Dr Tazeen Fatima (Samajwadi Party, Uttar Pradesh).8 There have been similar numbers of Sikh and Muslim women MPs in Parliament despite the fact that the proportion of Muslims in India’s population is much larger than the Sikh population. In part, this can be explained by the concentration of India’s Sikh population in the state of Punjab (cf. Jayal, 2006 in relation to under-representation of geographically dispersed Muslim community). Prominent Sikh women MPs have included Harsimrat Kaur Badal (SAD), of the Badal political family from Punjab, and Preneet Kaur (INC, Punjab), wife of Captain Amarinder Singh, the chief minister of Punjab and who is from the erstwhile royal family of Patiala; hence his wife’s nomination for Patiala. Paramjit Kaur Gulshan (SAD, Punjab), another Sikh woman MP is an educationist and daughter of a freedom fighter and former union minister. Several women from the Christian community have been elected, some nominated as a member of the Anglo-Indian community. Prominent women include Margaret Alva and her mother-in-law, Violet Alva (first elected female presiding officer in the Rajya Sabha). Notwithstanding the two Alvas from Karnataka (discussed below), most come from Kerala, Tamil Nadu, and the North Eastern states reflecting the concentration of the Christian community in these regions. Tabassum Begum, a Muslim woman MP in the 15th Lok Sabha, reflects one of the more diverse range of recent entrants into Parliament. She is a widow, identifies as being from a backward caste (Raman, 2010), 7 Mausam Noor (INC), a re-elected 15th Lok Sabha MP, and Professor Dr Mamtaz Sanghamita (Trinamul Congress). Professor Sanghamita is a respected gynaecologist by profession and her husband and late father have also been involved in state politics, including serving as ministers. Aparupa Poddar, another woman elected from West Bengal, was also identified by news media in the immediate aftermath of the 2014 election as a Muslim, which was disputed (discussed later). 8 Dr Fatima reportedly turned down her Rajya Sabha’s nomination initially, asking that the party nominate someone else, but her nomination and election went ahead (Fareed, 2014). In this round of Rajya Sabha candidate nominations, her party, the Samajwadi Party, included a range of caste, class, and religious communities among their candidates (Fareed, 2014), again demonstrating the importance of symbolic representation in nomination practices.

Representative Women?

133

and was elected to her late husband’s former constituency following his death in a car accident (Mathur, 2008). Mausam Noor on the other hand is one of the younger recruits into electoral politics, elected to the Lok Sabha in 2009 at the age of 29. Though she had considered going into politics in the longer term she was thrust into the spotlight suddenly in 2008 with the death of her mother, Ruby Noor, a long-serving Congress politician from West Bengal, and part of a larger Congress political family in West Bengal (The Telegraph, 2008; Yuva Desh, 2012).9 In the bye-election prompted by her mother’s death, Mausam Noor was nominated by Congress and won. The following year, she was nominated for the 2009 Lok Sabha election and was again successful. She was re-elected in the 2014 Lok Sabha election for a second term at the age of 34. Regional Absences

Regional differences also mark descriptive representation of women— women from the northern Hindi belt states are more numerous in Parliament than women from other regions partly due to more opportunities as election candidates. As discussed in the previous chapter, women MPs from small states such as Goa and states in the North East have been under-represented. There have been only 13 women who have been elected as Lok Sabha MPs from the North Eastern states since the first Lok Sabha, some of whom were re-elected later. The states of Nagaland, Sikkim, Tripura, Manipur, and Meghalaya have only had one woman MP in the Lok Sabha (see Table 4.2). Many of the women MPs have come from Assam, as the largest state in the North East, and from which some of the other North Eastern states were carved (see Table 4A.1 in the appendix to this chapter).10 In some Parliaments, there have also been few women MPs from the southern states. Class and Education in Public Life

Class significantly mediates the influence of religion and caste discrimination. Class is reflected to an extent in the educational profiles 9 Ruby Noor had been elected to the West Bengal Assembly in four consecutive elections between 1991 and 2006. 10 For example, Meghalaya was part of Assam until it became a separate state in 1972. Sikkim was not officially part of India until 1975.

134

Performing Representation

Table 4.2

Lok Sabha Women MPs from North East since Independence

Lok Sabha

Name

16th (2014–) 15th (2009–14)

Bijoya Chakravarty (Assam), Sushmita Dev (Assam) Bijoya Chakravarty (Assam), Ranee Narah (Assam), Agatha K. Sangma (Meghalaya) Agatha K. Sangma (Meghalaya) Bijoya Chakravarty (Assam), Ranee Narah (Assam) Kim Gangte (Manipur), Ranee Narah (Assam) (No women MPs) Dil Kumari Bhandari (Sikkim), Maharani Bibhu Kumari Devi (Tripura) (No women MPs) Dil Kumari Bhandari (Sikkim) (No women MPs) Renuka Devi Barkataki (Assam), Rashida Haque Choudhury (Assam), Rano M. Shaiza (Nagaland) Jyotsna Chanda (Assam) Jyotsna Chanda (Assam) Renuka Devi Barkataki (Assam), Jyotsna Chanda (Assam) Mofida Ahmed (Assam) Bonily Khongmen (Assam)

14th (2004–9) 13th (1999–2004) 12th (1998–9) 11th (1996–8) 10th (1991–6) 9th (1989–91) 8th (1985–9) 7th (1980–4) 6th (1977–80) 5th (1971–7) 4th (1967–71) 3rd (1962–7) 2nd (1957–62) 1st (1952–7)

Source: Compiled by the authors from data on the Lok Sabha website.

of women (and men) MPs. Though the majority of Lok Sabha MPs of the last three decades or more have been graduates, women MPs tend to hold proportionately more postgraduate-level qualifications than male MPs (see Table 4.3). At the same time, the proportion of women MPs with very little education (under-matriculates) has generally been higher than among male MPs (though smaller numbers result in greater variation). SC-reserved women MPs are even more likely than women MPs as a whole to hold postgraduate-level qualifications. In the 10th Lok Sabha only one out of the seven lower-caste women MPs was not a graduate, and the one SC woman MP in the Rajya Sabha at that time had postgraduate-level education. Similarly, in the 15th Lok Sabha, 9 of the 12 SC-reserved constituency women MPs in the Lok Sabha were postgraduates. The levels of education are also reflected in the professional profiles of these women. While the majority of women MPs in the Lok Sabha identify as political and social workers, followed by agriculturists

62 72

30 21

7 8

61 68

29 22

25 10

8th

4 2

33 20

70 79

9th

6 4

36 20

83 77

10th

8 3

30 20

69 78

11th

7 2

47 20

84 78

12th

n/a n/a

n/a n/a

n/a n/a

13th

0 4

46 33

85 79

14th

3 3

39 32

77 78

15th

5 3

44 36

73 77

16th

Source: For the 7th–12th Lok Sabhas, LARRDIS (2000); for 14th Lok Sabha, Lok Sabha (2005); for 15th Lok Sabha, PRS Legislative Research MP Track data; for 16th Lok Sabha, LARRDIS (2014).

Graduates and above Women All Postgraduates and above Women All Under-Matriculates Women All

7th

Lok Sabha

Educational Qualifications of Lok Sabha MPs from 7th–12th and 14th–16th Lok Sabhas (Percentage of Total MPs)

Qualification

Table 4.3

136

Performing Representation

(or farmers), many are also teachers, lawyers, medical practitioners, and in business (see Table 4.4). Male MPs too primarily identify as political and social workers and agriculturists, but the proportions are reversed with farmers comprising the bulk of male MPs; male lawyers also make up a larger proportion in many Lok Sabhas compared to women (LARRDIS, 2000).11 Women MPs who identified as teachers and educationists were a more significant presence in the 9th, 10th, and 11th Lok Sabhas before declining in recent years. In the early 1990s, 30 per cent of women MPs in the Rajya Sabha, for example, were lawyers, and more than 25 per cent in the Lok Sabha were either teachers or lecturers. The proportion of businesswomen have grown in recent Parliaments, comprising the second largest group of women MPs in the 14th Lok Sabha and the third largest in the 16th Lok Sabha. We would tentatively suggest that this new trend may be the result of India’s liberalizing economy but with the low number of women MPs, it is difficult to say this is a definitive shift; it may reflect a diversification of professions among middle-class women or may be indicative of a declining reluctance of politicians generally to identify as businesspersons. These are all speculative suggestions. But the changing occupational background of women MPs surely has implications for the interests some women MPs may be inclined to represent as well as the sustainability of links with the women’s movement. Marriage and Children: Defying Gender Norms or Life beyond Work?

In Chapter 2 we discussed the crucial role of family support for a woman’s entry into politics, noting also how some women MPs defy conventional heteronormative marital arrangements and remain unmarried. Indeed women MPs are more likely to be unmarried (single or widowed) than men, and while the majority of both men and women MPs are married, the proportion of married women is smaller among women. In the 10th Lok Sabha (1994), 45 per cent of women MPs were unmarried; of these women, half were single and half were widows. With growing numbers of women MPs in recent years, the number of married women MPs is increasing but only slightly. For the 13th to 15th Lok Sabhas, approximately two-thirds of women were married and 11

Based on a 98 per cent response rate.

33% 35% — 19% 5% 2% 2% — — — 38 16 19 8 7

39% 46% — 11% —

— — — — —

39 17

22 7 6

8th

15 8 4

44 17

— 8% 4% — —

12% 44% 4% 20% 4%

9th

16 10 8

32 18

3% 3% — — —

14% 39% 6% 28% 5%

10th

12 8 8

39 20

— 5% — — —

22% 49% 5% 14% 3%

11th

10 5 4

49 18

5% 2% 9% — —

25% 41% 5% 9% 2%

12th

n/a n/a n/a

n/a n/a

n/a n/a n/a n/a n/a

n/a n/a n/a n/a n/a

13th

0% 4% 4% 10% 10%

10% 37% 10% 7% 12%

14th

6% 8% 2% 3% 1%

19% 40% 8% 6% 8%

15th

Source: For 7th to 12th Lok Sabhas, LARRDIS (2000); for 14th Lok Sabha, Lok Sabha Secretariat (2005); for 15th Lok Sabha, from Lok Sabha member profiles; for 16th Lok Sabha, Lok Sabha secretariat member profiles. Note: Some members identified more than one occupation. Data recorded during 13th Lok Sabha (rather than updated profiles in subsequent Parliaments) was not available at the time of the analysis.

Women MPs Agriculturists Political and social workers Advocates/Lawyers Teachers/Educationists Businessperson/Trader/ Industrialist Medical Practitioner Artist/Film Artist Journalist/Writer Others Not Stated/Not Listed All MPs (Selected Categories) Agriculturists Political and Social Workers Advocates/Lawyers Teachers/Educationists Businessperson/Trader/ Industrialist

7th

Lok Sabha

Self-Identified Occupational Backgrounds of Lok Sabha MPs from the 7th to 16th Lok Sabhas (Percentage)

Occupational category

Table 4.4

10 5 15

31 24

8% 2%

7% 7%

15% 37% 5% 7% 14%

16th

138

Performing Representation

one-third unmarried.12 In the 16th Lok Sabha (2014–), the proportion of married women increased, with almost three quarters of women MPs being married (73 per cent), perhaps consistent with the more conservative gender norms of BJP whose MPs made up more than half of all Lok Sabha MPs.13 In contrast, in the 15th Lok Sabha, nearly all male MPs were married, whereas a small percentage were unmarried, widowed, or divorced; the 16th Lok Sabha exhibited the same pattern (see Figure 4.3). Women MPs also tend to have smaller families than male MPs. In the 15th Lok Sabha, nearly half of all male MPs had three or more children, compared to less than a fifth of women MPs. A quarter of male MPs have four or more children, but less than a tenth of women MPs have four or more (see Figure 4.4). In the 16th Lok Sabha, the proportion of MPs with two children was roughly the same for men and women MPs, but women MPs were more likely to have either no children or only one child, compared to male MPs; men were much more likely to have three or more children compared to women MPs. Women MPs tend to be younger than their male counterparts, on average. This has not substantially changed over recent Parliaments. At the start of the 15th Lok Sabha (2009) the average age was 47 for women MPs compared to 54 years for men, and this was about the same in the 16th Lok Sabha (see Figures 4.5 and 4.6).14 Almost a quarter of women MPs were below 40, compared to only 12 per cent of male MPs; more than a quarter of male MPs were aged 60 and above, compared to less than a fifth of women MPs. Thus, while the bulk of both men and women MPs are in the age bracket 40–59 years, women are usually skewed towards the younger and men are skewed towards the older ends 12 In the 13th Lok Sabha, less than a third (29 per cent) were unmarried (single or widowed) and around two-thirds married (69 per cent). The proportion of unmarried women increased slightly in the 14th Lok Sabha (2004) to around 35 per cent, with almost two-thirds married (Lok Sabha Secretariat, 2005). Of the non-married women, more than half (nine women MPs) were widowed, three were unmarried and three were divorced (one was married just after the start of the new Parliament). In the 15th Lok Sabha (2009–14), more than two-thirds of women MPs were married (69 per cent); of the unmarried women MPs, widows made up 16 per cent, and single women 13 per cent. 13 Thirteen per cent were unmarried, 11 per cent (7 women) were widowed, and one was divorced (and one woman with no status listed). 14 The average age of a woman MP elected in 2014 was 47, with the majority percentage aged 35–69 (based on ECI data on candidates).

Representative Women?

Divorced, Widowed,

Not stated, Unmarried,

Divorced,

Not stated,

Widowed,

Unmarried,

Married,

Married,

Divorced, Widowed, Divorced,

Not stated, Unmarried,

Married,

Figure 4.3 Sabhas

139

Widowed,

Not stated, Unmarried,

Married,

Marital Status of Women and Men MPs in the 15th and 16th Lok

Source: Computed by the authors from bio-profile data sourced from the Lok Sabha secretariat website. Notes: a Data on male MPs based on a randomly generated sample of 217 male MPs out of a total possible 496 male MPs, at 95 per cent confidence, 5 per cent margin of error; b Data on male MPs based on a randomly generated sample of 217 male MPs out of a total possible 481 male MPs, at 95 per cent confidence, 5 per cent margin of error.

of this age group.15 Some notable differences are that women MPs tend to be in slightly older in the Rajya Sabha (early 1950s), with an average 15 We find a similar picture in the 16th Lok Sabha, where the average age for women MPs was 47.3 years in 2014, compared to 55 for men. More than 90 per cent of male MPs were above 40 years of age, compared to only 68 per

140

Performing Representation

0/not stated,

0/not stated,

0/not stated, 0/not stated,

Figure 4.4 Number of Children among Men and Women MPs in the 15th and 16th Lok Sabhas

Source: Computed by the author from bio-profile data available on the Lok Sabha secretariat website. Notes: a Data on male MPs based on a randomly generated sample of 217 male MPs out of a total possible 496 male MPs, at 95% confidence, 5% margin of error; b Data on male MPs based on a randomly generated sample of 217 male MPs out of a total possible 481 male MPs, at 95% confidence, 5% margin of error.

cent of women MPs. Just under 10 per cent of male MPs were below 40 years, compared to almost a third (32 per cent) of female MPs.

Representative Women?

141

Figure 4.5 Age Distribution of Men and Women MPs at the Start of the 15th Lok Sabha (2009)

Source: ECI data.

Figure 4.6 Age Distribution of Men and Women MPs at the Start of the 16th Lok Sabha (2014)

Source: ECI data.

age of 51 years.16 Women elected from SC- and ST-reserved constituencies in 2014 were younger on average than all women MPs, around 41 and 36 years of age respectively (with smaller numbers having a larger 16

The average age for women in the Rajya Sabha fluctuated between 42 (1952) and 58 (1998) (Rajya Sabha Secretariat, 2003: 12).

142

Performing Representation

impact on the average). We would suggest that this age and gender dynamic needs further probing; if age reflects experience and seniority, the younger average age of women MPs may reflect a particular dynamic of exclusion, with implications for women’s seniority and leadership (discussed further in Chapter 7) and the sustainability of political careers (discussed further in Chapter 9). It is possible that because women MPs are on average younger than male MPs, their marital status and family size may change with time. But given the almost universal marriage pattern that exists in India, the figure for unmarried MPs is extraordinarily high, and indicates the social pressures on women who join public life. One MP, 48, told us: ‘I did not get the time to get married’ (MP51, 27 January 1993). For younger women too, time and position pose dilemmas: ‘You join politics and somewhere along the way your private life takes a back seat’, said Selja Kumari, a junior minister in the Congress government (Savvy, 1993: 31). Meenakshi Natarajan, a young Congress MP elected in 2009 to the Lok Sabha, reportedly ‘told her parents she has no time, or inclination, to get married and have a family’ (Bhartia, 2012: 73). For those who are married, the pressures of public life are eased a bit by their class situation. Most MPs are able to afford paid help in the home. In many cases the joint family system, or at least strong family support, also helps (see Chapter 2).17 However, the constraints of family life continue to be real concerns in the lives of even these privileged women. Women MPs have different strategies to cope with these constraints. One MP (MP13, 29 November 2005), when asked about how she will manage work and home life, replied that since she was now married, she might have to negotiate a busy schedule with her husband. This strategy works only if the family has accepted the woman’s career in politics; in this case, the marriage did not survive the pressures of a political life for the woman. If the family is a ‘political’ family, the woman’s natal family can sometimes employ its political muscle to support the woman’s political career. If the woman was already in political life before she married into a family she can face tremendous pressures to conform to a traditional role and retreat from public life, or to leave the family in pursuit of an uncertain future in party politics where the lack of family support and the stigma of divorce would be a further disadvantage. 17 For example, when one of the authors interviewed a newly elected woman MP from Uttar Pradesh shortly after the 2009 Lok Sabha election, she was staying in temporary accommodation at a large five star hotel in Delhi with her husband and baby, with no other help apparent (author’s field notes, 2009).

Representative Women?

143

Complicating Social Categories

Complex intersecting identities make it difficult to read off relative dominance/marginality from aggregate empirical data. The multiple identities of an MP intersect in complex ways demonstrating the kind of elusiveness of gendered subjectivity that feminist scholars have debated in India and elsewhere (Menon, 2004). While recognizing patterns of exclusion, we have to guard against making easy inferences between gender, caste, class, and representation and avoid reductionist assumptions about privilege, marginality, and ‘authenticity’, and be wary of constructing what Lorde refers to as ‘hierarchies of oppression’. For example, of the six women who are Brahmins in the 10th Lok Sabha, two are members of the CPI and CPI(M). In both cases the caste factor is less important than their privileged class backgrounds (class discussed later), which in turn is arguably less important than their political commitments. Further, both are products of political movements—the nationalist struggle, and the anti-Emergency movement. In contrast, though former MP and chief minister of West Bengal Mamata Banerjee is a Brahmin, she was raised in a lower middle-class household and it is this class background and its refractions in her self-styled performance as a politician (communication style, dress, behaviour) that enabled the elite male-dominated left in West Bengal to position her as a ‘classOther’ (Gupta, 2012). Similarly, despite broader structural patterns of marginality among Dalit women in India, most are highly educated and/or from elite political families. However, an analysis of claimmaking (discussed subsequently) allows us to understand their personal testimonies of caste-based discrimination which intersects class boundaries and other forms of privilege. Identities are also constructed and contested in a competitive electoral context. When West Bengal MP Aparupa Poddar was elected from a SC-reserved constituency in 2014, her SC status was contested by BJP’s losing candidate, Madhusudan Bag, who filed an election petition in the Calcutta High Court in July 2014. The election petition claimed that because she had married a Muslim man and converted to Islam this disqualified her for contesting a SC-reserved constituency, as under the Constitution, the conversion invalidated her claim to SC status. Poddar denied having converted to Islam upon marriage. At the time of writing, the case was still pending for more than two years. This case demonstrates the intersectional complexities of gender, caste, and religion. The majority of women in the Indian Parliament are thus elite women. While their public roles challenge some stereotypes, their class

144

Performing Representation

position often allows them a far greater range of options than are available to poorer women. The pressure of the social milieu within which they operate, at the family and in some cases at the party level, has an impact not only on recruitment patterns of women into politics but also on the issues that these women representatives are willing to take up in public life. Greenhorns and Grassroots? Women MPs’ Experience in Panchayats and Parliaments

While the elite status of women MPs allows them to operate in political life, it also undermines their authenticity and representativeness and shows them as distant and unconnected to the lived realities of ordinary citizens. Women MPs new to the role have faced criticisms of being parachuted into parliamentary positions, creating a legitimacy deficit. It was hoped that panchayat gender quotas introduced in 1993 and implemented in 1996 would inter alia produce a pipeline effect, increasing the pool of experienced women politicians available for assembly and parliamentary elections in addition to those who had gained experience within party organizational structures. In the 16th Lok Sabha, only a quarter of women MPs listed panchayat experience on their institutional bio-profiles. Some MPs travelled straight from panchayat to Parliament, such as a Biju Janata Dal (BJD) MP from Odisha (Rita Tarai), who, prior to her election to Parliament in 2014, was a member of the Raipur district panchayat. For some women, panchayat experience was only a brief stepping-stone to Parliament, such as for one woman MP from Assam (Sushmita Dev) who won elections in relatively quick succession from panchayat to state assembly to Parliament and had the advantage of her father’s endorsement, a senior Congress leader. Panchayat experience thus means different things to different women MPs. It is possible that with time the pipeline effect may materialize more visibly but this depends on the women parties nominate. (It is also reasonable to assume that not all women elected to panchayat level desire parliamentary careers.) Because the majority of women MPs do not have panchayat experience, they have to find other ways to demonstrate ‘local connect’. As discussed in Chapter 2, several women MPs have experience in intra-party organizations such as youth wings, women wings, and minority wings, as well as district and state party structures—or as members of political families. These experiences affect women MPs’ claims to ‘authenticity’ and ‘representativeness’ and their ability to fend off such criticisms, including from

Representative Women?

145

their own party workers, which claim that they are privileged outsiders in the political system. It can also influence the representational priorities women MPs have once in Parliament. The persistence of the ‘proxy’ discourse of women’s participation, combined with the enduring under-representation of women in Parliament, generates a discourse of inexperience, of greenhorn MPs without experience. For example, one corporate-sponsored awards event for parliamentarians in July 2017 had an award for debut woman parliamentarian of the year but no equivalent for debut male parliamentarians (Spary, 2017). Yet many women MPs are not new to the role and can be found among the longest-serving parliamentarians (see Tables 4.5 and 4.6). The longest-serving Rajya Sabha MP is a woman, Table 4.5 Sabha

Name

Women MPs Who Have Served Five or More Terms in the Lok

Party

Vijaya Raje BJP Scindia Sumitra Mahajan BJP

Constituency

Guna (Madhya Pradesh) Indore (Madhya Pradesh) Mamata Banerjee AITC Kolkata Dakshin (West Bengal) Maneka Gandhi BJP Pilibhit (Uttar Pradesh) Geeta Mukherjee CPI Panskura (West Bengal) Uma Bharati BJP Jhansi (Uttar Pradesh) Maragatham Congress (I) Sriperumbudur-SC Chandrasekhar (Tamil Nadu) Ganga Devi Congress Mohanlalganj-SC (Uttar Pradesh) Sheila Kaul Congress (I) Raebareli (Uttar Pradesh) Meira Kumar INC Sasaram (Bihar) Minimata Agam Congress Janjgir Dass Guru (Madhya Pradesh) Sukhbuns Kaur INC Gurdaspur (Punjab)

Lok Sabha Terms No. 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 10, 11, 12 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 8, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 16 1, 3, 8, 9, 10 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 5, 7, 8, 9, 10 8, 11, 12, 14, 15 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Source: Compiled by the authors from details listed on the Lok Sabha website.

8 8 7 7 7 7 7 7 6 5 5 5 5 5 5

146

Performing Representation

Table 4.6 Sabha

Women MPs Who Have Served Four or More Terms in the Rajya

Name

Party

State/Nominated Rajya Sabha Terms

Najma Heptulla

BJP (5–6); INC/ CONG(I) (1–4)

Maharashtra (1–4), Rajasthan (5), Madhya Pradesh (6)

1980–6, 1986–92, 1992–8, 1998–2004, 2004–10, 2012–18 (resigned 2016)

6

Saroj Kharpade

INC

Maharashtra

1972–4, 1976–82, 1982–8, 1988–94, 1994–2000

5

Margaret Alva

INC

Karnataka

1974–80, 1980–6, 1986–92, 1992–8

4

Jayanthi Natarajan

Tamil Nadu INC (TMC[M] between 1997 and 2001)

1986–92, 1992–8, 1997–2001, 2008–14

4

Pratibha Singh

INC

1970–6, 1976–82, 1982–8, 1988–92

4

Bihar

No.

Source: Compiled by the authors from member profile data on the Rajya Sabha secretariat website. Available at http://164.100.47.5/Newmembers/mpterms.aspx, last accessed on 3 August 2017.

Najma Heptulla, with six terms,18 and Sumitra Mahajan, speaker of the 16th Lok Sabha, is among the longest-serving Lok Sabha MPs with eight consecutive terms, with local-level experience earlier in her career. While the social profiles of MPs vary and remain mostly elite, it is also important to see how these identities are performed, instrumentalized, and mobilized to make claims for representativeness. We address this issue in the section below.

18

Alongside six male MPs, Saroj Kharpade was the joint second-longest serving MP in the Rajya Sabha. In total, there are 5 women among the 36 MPs who have served four or more terms in the Rajya Sabha, which, given the proportion of women in the upper house, has rarely risen above 12 per cent; this would suggest that women punch above their weight in this house (adding 11 women among 131 MPs with three terms brings us to 16/167 and to a more proportional level).

Representative Women?

147

Performing Representation In this section we analyse claims by women MPs to represent—how do women represent? We reflect upon what performative tropes are employed by women in Parliament to underpin the claims of representation. We explore corporeal performances as well as articulated claims to represent, both in institutional spaces and through the use of social media. Relatedly, we consider how different actors attempt to shape the claims they think women MPs should be making. Claim-Making in Institutional Profiles

As part of their induction and socialization into Parliament, newly elected Members are asked to provide a bio-profile which is uploaded to the Parliament website and becomes their public institutional profile, containing contact details, biographical details such as education, occupation, marital status and number of children, positions held and special interests, as well as hobbies and other information, such as countries visited. Along with their election affidavit and election results held by the ECI, the bio-profile is one of the few sources of publicly available official data about them as an individual MP, their prior experience, interests, public work, and activities, and is referenced by external encyclopaedic websites and government sites. Member’s bio-profiles are collated and published in a directory representing each Parliament, the who’s who of each Lok Sabha. Their profile is updated, online and in print, if and when they are elected again. The profile is especially important then for new MPs seeking to make an impression, to communicate representative claims about who they are, their experience, and what they seek to represent. Profiles of women members are made more accessible and visible by both secretariats of the Lok Sabha and the Rajya Sabha on their websites in dedicated lists of women members, alongside their lists of all members including men and women. As historical bio-profiles are available for members since the first Lok Sabha, they also serve as an important institutional archive documenting the history of women’s presence in Parliament. Our analysis19 of the bio-profile pages of members of the 16th Lok Sabha found that around half (33) of the women MPs, as well as some male 19

We conducted an advanced google search of the parent website of all the Lok Sabha bio-profiles of sitting members of the 16th Lok Sabha. These

148

Performing Representation

MPs, make claims to represent women and work for the empowerment of women. Women MPs made direct claims, some more detailed than others, of representing women, working on their behalf, working with them, or participating in and contributing to women-specific activities. The 16th Lok Sabha CPM MP Sreemathi Teacher, for example, listed as one of her special interests to ‘fight for the equality of women’ and listed her affiliation and position of state secretary of All India Democratic Women’s Association (AIDWA); 16th Lok Sabha BJP MP Kirron Kher included on her profile that she was a ‘Brand Ambassador for LAADLI, a campaign against female foeticide and infanticide’ and ‘closely associated with Beti Bachao Andolan in Madhya Pradesh and Haryana’. Some claims were linked to the work carried out in previous posts held by women MPs, either as elected representatives and government ministers or at the state or district level, in their previous occupational work (for example, as doctors or teachers), or as part of their party-linked, autonomous movement activism, or other social work (see Chapter 8 for a discussion of ‘social service’). For example, 15th Lok Sabha Congress MP Girija Vyas made extensive reference to her work as former chairperson of the National Commission for Women (NCW; discussed later) and 16th Lok Sabha BJP MP Meenakshi Lekhi listed examples where she lent her legal expertise to the drafting of recent high-profile ‘women’s bills’ such as the WRB, Prevention of Sexual Harassment at the Workplace, and the Criminal Law (Amendment) Bill linked to the Delhi gang rape case in 2012–13. BJP MP Darshana Vikram Jardosh of the16th Lok Sabha makes several references to her work with the BJP’s women’s wing, the Mahila Morcha. Several MPs mention the organizations of seminars, camps, and/or awareness programmes specifically targeted towards women, which aligns with their predominant occupational association as political and social workers discussed earlier; some also refer to participation in international conferences related to women such as at the United Nations (UN) and International Labour Organisation (ILO)

bio-profiles are all in English. The search included the following terms: ‘woman’, ‘women’, ‘mahila’, ‘gender’, ‘empowerment’, and ‘equality’. Data was collected and sorted into two columns, one listing any reference found in the ‘special interests’ category of the bioprofile, the other containing all other relevant information in other catagories of the bio-profiles such as ‘positions held’ and ‘other information’ which often include professional or social work activities, current and former.

Representative Women?

149

(Jhansi Laxmi Botcha, Mamata Banerjee, Meira Kumar, Preneet Kaur, and Sumitra Mahajan among others). References to ‘equality’ in the context of women are only made twice among member profiles in the 16th Lok Sabha, whereas references to empowerment (of women) appear more frequently (16 times). Many MPs make reference to working for women as part of a broadly stated commitment towards marginalized groups, such as ‘rural youth and women’ or ‘women and Dalits’. Some women (and men) MPs make claims to assist specific groups of women: poor women, ‘tribal’ women, widows, housewives, mothers, pregnant women, girl children, orphan girls, and, rarely, gang rape victims. Many of the activities appear to be health, employment, or education related, but several include awareness of rights. On the other hand, some refer to their participation in what might be deemed more exclusive middle-class civil society organizations. Some claims are made generally with very little to no specific detail provided, whereas others are much more extensive, partly because of the seniority of the members and them having held particular positions. In the 15th Lok Sabha, Girija Vyas, for example, had one of the most extensive profiles with claims of expertise relating to representation of women, mostly stemming from her party work and her work as a former chairperson of the NCW. In the 16th Lok Sabha, Sumitra Mahajan also makes extensive claims based on previous experience as a former minister for women and child development, including (like Vyas) participation in international conferences. Some women MPs also make claims of individual achievement, co-constructing their status as trailblazers or as having a unique position or status. One claimed to be the only woman MP from the left movement in the Lok Sabha, another the first woman chief minister of Delhi, another the first woman MP after the formation of Uttarakhand. Others note their achievements in leading sports teams or organizations. Some male MPs also made claims of representing women or of acting in their interests, though proportionately far fewer than among women MPs (around 19 out of more than 480 in the 16th Lok Sabha). For example, former speaker P. A. Sangma refers to guiding the establishment of the Committee for the Empowerment of Women (CEW) during his time (Chapter 6); another MP (M. K. Raghavan) refers to setting up many women’s cooperative societies in a south Indian district, which he claimed generated ‘ample employment opportunities for the rural youth & [sic] especially women’; another (Gopal Chinnaya Shetty) pointed to his ‘using [his] MLA fund in favour of poor women’ to construct a building

150

Performing Representation

in Mumbai; and another claimed to have facilitated women’s education through the establishment of a women’s college. Similarly, a small number of male MPs list patron-type posts such as being a president of a women’s college. Another claimed to have started all-women police stations in his state, presumably during the time he served as his state’s home minister. While some bio-profile claims are empirically verifiable, many are not; their importance lies in the making of specific claims. Claims, where made, appear less sincere if sparsely evidenced. The indeterminate ‘audience’ for the MP bio-profile also increases the difficulty of targeting claims and so MPs assign variable importance to these profiles, with some only providing skeletal information. What is not discernible is how they are received by the (intended) audience. Compared to their contribution to debates, the bio-profile is a static, although easily accessible, variable in the interest it generates. Claim-making while important, needs to be made in fora that are visible and that influence audience opinion; bioprofiles have been important for us as researchers, but may reach only a very limited wider audience. Authenticity and the Body in/on View

Women’s bodies in the Indian Parliament have, for a long time, been marginal bodies—there have been few female bodies in/on view but because of this they have been more visible. This was particularly the case in the early years of Independence when male Congress politicians would wear predominantly white khadi and newspaper coverage of the first few days of each new Parliament would remark on the smattering of colour provided by women’s saris.20 Women’s bodies in the Parliament have also been marked by class and caste—there have been more elite bodies than not. The issue of ‘foreignness’ was famously raised in relation to Sonia Gandhi, reminding us of how discourses of ‘authenticity’ are mobilized politically. Saris or salwar kameez encase women’s bodies in Parliament while men sport both Western and regional dress.21 This marks women in the cultural context in different registers of formality than the men. Take, for example, two influential women in Indian politics, Indira Gandhi and Sushma Swaraj, one an 20

See, for example, The Hindu (1962). An exception is a BJP woman MP in the 16th Lok Sabha (Anju Bala) who prefers to wear a Nehru waistcoat usually over a long kurta, churidar, and matching scarf. 21

Representative Women?

151

erstwhile prime minister, the other the current foreign minister in the Modi government. Images of Mrs Gandhi often reflect her elite background, while those of Swaraj emphasize her ‘homeliness’. In many photographs, Mrs Gandhi looks rather aloof and stern; Sushma Swaraj wears a bindi and has sindur in her hair, which most practising Hindu women would identify with. The sophistication of Gandhi’s saris was notable—her clothes reflected the occasion; for election campaigning you often saw her in cotton saris and full sleeve blouses, with her head covered. On state visits abroad Gandhi was often attired in silks, short sleeved blouses, and was perfectly coiffured. Awareness of her place in India’s political history and the space she occupied in the moment both influenced the affect she sought to create. Swaraj, however, insists on her affect as a homely woman who is not interested in presentation—despite being proud of the affect of that homeliness. The styles of dress and deportment can mark their different personal histories. In an interview, one woman MP had this to say about inspiration and representation: One of my achievements is that while Mrs. Gandhi was seen with respect and awe, an ordinary Indian woman didn’t think that she could be like Mrs Gandhi. But when she sees me, she thinks that she, her daughter, can become like me. This is my life-time achievement … Mrs. Gandhi was a class apart; I am the woman next door; I have created this aspiration in the ordinary woman of India. (MP43, 2 December 2005)

That the cultural and social markers create political affect can also be seen in the statements of OBC (lower-caste) political (male) leaders: JD(U) veteran Sharad Yadav, a critic of the WRB, asked in June 1997, ‘Do you think these women with short hair can speak for women, for our women’ (The Hindu, 2010). Occasionally, women MPs’ dresses can become part of a disruptive, spectacular parliamentary performance. Former MP Krishna Bose recalls the occasion when Mamata Banerjee threw her black shawl at the railways minister during his railway budget speech as a protest as she felt that her state of West Bengal had been neglected in the budget (Bose, 2008: 103). Such performances can also either reinforce or subvert gender norms. Banerjee recalls removing her silver bangle in the chamber during Zero Hour and placing it in front of other MPs as a protest against their inaction, saying ‘If none of you have the guts to do anything about this, please wear this bangle and sit at home’ (Banerjee, 2012: 72). This performative move underlined a gendered view of the

152

Performing Representation

Indian housewife, wearing bangles and lacking agency.22 Other women MPs on the other hand openly subvert traditional gendered dress and behavioural codes. In a widely reported episode, Ranjeet Ranjan, an MP from Bihar, arrived in Parliament on International Women’s Day in 2016 on her Harley Davidson motorbike. She reportedly emphasized to the surrounding media that she had paid for the bike with her own earnings and did not allow her husband to ride it other than as a passenger (NDTV, 2016). Such performances of gender subversion also generate a public and media profile for the MP. Articulating Representative Claims, Constituting Representative Subjectivities

Women MPs’ claims to speak on behalf of women have been most visibly manifest in explicitly women-related debates such as the WRB, the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill in August 2005, and the Criminal Amendment Bill 2013 in which the debate was strongly influenced by the gang rape in Delhi in December 2013 (discussed in Chapter 5). In the 2005 debates on the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill, women MPs self-identified as women, claimed to be speaking as women, and declared a special interest in relation to the problem of domestic violence and a special empathy in representing women. For example, when presiding over one of the amendments to the Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (PNDT) Act—addressing technologies used for sex-selective abortion—in the Rajya Sabha, Najma Heptulla staked an explicit interest in the bill, noting, This is a very important Bill. This has been very controversial because those things which were meant for the good of the embryo, are being misused … [T]he Minister will explain more, but, we, as women, have been agitating a lot because this is being misused by doctors, especially private doctors, for finding out the sex of the baby. When the people come to know that, it would be a girl, they go for termination of the pregnancy. I think, it is a criminal act. So, I hope, the Bill provides for some 22 Invoking bangles as a material object to indicate lack of agency, authority, and decisiveness is a relatively common gender trope in Indian politics (see Ciotti, 2017a). A recent example is MP Smriti Irani’s statement directed at then prime minister Manmohan Singh in 2013 after the killing of Indian soldiers, which was later re-invoked by the Opposition during a similar incident in 2017 (Financial Express, 2017).

Representative Women?

153

criminal action against those found involved in this act. (RS Debates, 6 August 2001: 295, our emphasis)

One semi-institutionalized debate in which women MPs make claims to represent women is on or around International Women’s Day, 8 March. On this occasion, women MPs have openly acknowledged gender conflict, and in feminist language. Anglo-Indian nominated MP Beatrix D’Souza (who self-identified on her bio-profile as a feminist) on International Women’s Day debate in 2003 spoke of ‘patriarchal systems that need to be rocked … [and] completely overhauled’ including the political system, noting: The word ‘politics’ itself means conflict; and sexual politics means conflict between men and women. Nowhere is it seen so very clearly than in this august House itself. There is a conflict about space also. It is the space that women occupy and the space that men have to occupy. We have been fighting for the last four years for political space in this House. The Government is asking for a consensus. For no other Bill is, consensus is asked for. We want a political debate. We want to see which male Member votes for the Bill. (LS Debates, 2003b)

Many women MPs, however, seek to distance themselves from feminist labels to avoid being seen as challenging gender norms. In the 2002 debate on International Women’s Day, Mamata Banerjee made a speech advocating equal opportunity for women, girl child education, and addressing violence against women and harassment of women at work, but tempered her position by saying: ‘Sir, let me say that I am not a feminist. I consider myself as a human being. As a human being we feel that it is our duty to help women, minorities, Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, OBCs, and also the neglected class’ (LS Debates, 2002). She began her speech noting, ‘This day is being celebrated all over the world not only by the women but also by our brothers’ (LS Debates, 2002).23 Even in Beatrix D’Souza’s speech mentioned earlier, she closes with the conciliatory note that women only ‘want 50:50 partnership with men’ and did not want to take over, including in the House (LS Debates, 2003b). Women MPs (and some men) also project claims onto other women MPs. Individual MPs make claims not just about who they themselves 23 See Monobina Gupta’s biography of Mamata Banerjee (Gupta, 2012) in which she discusses Mamata’s conflicted relationship with gender and feminism—her rejection of any association with feminism and non-radical position on gender, despite having lived a feminist life.

154

Performing Representation

represent but also about who they think other MPs represent and should represent. The election of Meira Kumar as the first female speaker of the Lok Sabha is probably the most explicit example of this in recent years: her speakership was expected to ensure the representation of women, especially Dalit women, both symbolically and substantively, as with the passage of the long-contested WRB (Armitage, Johnson, and Spary, 2014). At the same time, MPs acknowledged that Kumar’s relatively privileged upbringing distanced her significantly from the average life experiences of Dalit women (MP33, 24 July 2009). During the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill debates in 2005, two female MPs (Maheswari and Mahajan) suggested to the presiding officer that rather than extend the debate by an hour, it would be better to continue the debate the following day, with one stressing that ‘many of the Women Members want to express their views on this issue’ (LS Debates, 2005b, col. 412); later in her speech Mahajan acknowledged that ‘remaining women colleagues, too, may like to speak’ (LS Debates, 2005b, col. 414). One reading of this would suggest that women MPs can be collegial and express cross-party solidarity when ‘women’s issues’ are being debated; another suggests that women MPs presume the representative claims other women MPs will make, that their ascriptive identity as women will determine the representative interests of other women MPs. Some women from SC-reserved constituencies do make explicit claims to represent Dalit women and their experiences, many of which are reactive to events, such as episodes of brutal violence against Dalits, which prompt members to submit special mentions or, more rarely, call for a short duration discussion.24 Some MPs explicitly articulate personal 24 It is depressing to find such a lack of debates dedicated to the discussion of the condition of Dalits in the Lok Sabha, particularly Dalit women. A search for the term ‘Dalit women’ resulted in only 10 records throughout the whole of the 12th–15th Lok Sabhas. Only seven of these records included Dalit women in the subject line, many of which referred to sexual or other forms of violence and discrimination, and two other records included discussions of Dalit women within a broader discussion of atrocities on Dalits (the term ‘Dalit’ on its own appeared 57 times across the same Parliaments in a debate search). Six of the references to Dalit women were made by male MPs through either Special Mentions or Submissions by Members, which are either shorter or of lower importance than other forms of debate in the sense they do not require a response from government. That parliamentary debates seem to prefer the use of official terminology, ‘Scheduled Caste’, only partially explains this absence.

Representative Women?

155

identification with/as members of the Dalit community, as did Punjab MP Paramjit Kaur Gulshan in a half-hour discussion of atrocities on Dalits in the Lok Sabha in 2010: Mr. Chairman Sir, we are not begging for alms. These are our rights. We have been insulted. Atrocities have been committed against us. The accursed system of untouchability has stigmatized us. We demand justice. This is our due. (LS Debates, 2010a: Lok Sabha English translation of Punjabi speech)25

Another MP, Santosh Chowdhary, made a powerful speech in the 13th Lok Sabha on the employment discrimination Dalits experienced in public institutions. She made personal links with her experience of working in a public service commission and claimed to have appointed Dalits to vacancies, noting that senior appointments were crucial in addressing discrimination against Dalits (LS Debates, 2003a).26 However, she also noted that the Parliamentary Committee related to SCs, of which she had been a member, lacked the power to ensure accountability. Unsurprisingly and understandably, debate contributions are not wholly determined by caste considerations, but a range of ascriptive identities and other interests. The same MP from Punjab spoke on caste (Dalits), gender (women), constituency, and state (Punjab) in her debate interventions in the 13th Lok Sabha. Another woman MP, a Communist party MP elected from an SC-reserved constituency in West Bengal in the 14th and 15th Lok Sabhas intervened on International Mother Tongue Day to speak about Bengali. Members can skilfully combine

‘Scheduled Caste women’ or ‘SC women’ appear more frequently, though not overwhelmingly: there are 34 records for Scheduled Caste women across the 12th–15th Lok Sabhas, some of which overlap with the 10 records on Dalit women. This equates to an average of two entries a year throughout the 16-year period covering these Parliaments (see Kumar [2001] for an analysis of Dalit issues arising in Lok Sabha debates and questions from 1985 to 1995). 25 See Ciotti (2017a) for an interesting discussion of how some local BSP party women workers reject the ‘victim’ status they perceive to be inherent in the label ‘Dalit’ and, thus, refuse to identify as Dalit. 26 However, when Chowdhury was later re-elected in the 15th Lok Sabha after having served as chairperson of the National Commission of Safai Karmacharis (Manual Scavengers), she laid a speech on the table during a debate on atrocities on Dalits wherein she lamented that commission reports are not implemented.

156

Performing Representation

representative claims on issues with praise for their party, either praising past achievements or current action of party leaders on the issue, including showcasing state-level initiatives: a Tamil Nadu woman MP elected to a SC-reserved constituency raised concerns about discrimination towards Dalits, praising her party leader and criticizing the rival party as ‘anti-Dalit’ (LS Debates, 2001). Representational priorities may also change over time, either by choice, through different opportunities, or as a consequence of experience. For example, by the 15th Lok Sabha, MP Santosh Chowdhary was more active in relation to raising constituency matters rather than Dalit issues, perhaps as a result of losing the 14th Lok Sabha election.

Social Media as a Space for Politics: Women MPs and Their Self-Representation The representative claims women MPs make in Parliament can become lost in the noise of disruptive moments, or through media filtering occurring under the pressures of competitive news cycles; their claims might also be highly constrained by party and parliamentary norms and opportunities. Social media provides a dynamic platform and space for the performance of representative claims (certainly when compared to the static and official parliamentary bio-profiles discussed earlier). Globally, social media has become an increasingly important mode of communication for elected representatives to signal acts of representation—unconstrained by traditional media outlets—to their constituents, voters, party supporters, policy-makers, elected colleagues, journalists, and others locally, nationally, and internationally.27 Social media also provides some visibility of the reception of representative claims by this audience, whether they are supporters or critics, through ‘likes’, ‘shares’/‘retweets’, and ‘comments’/‘replies’. In India, the use of social media in politics is a more recent development, reflecting increasing access to information and communication 27

According to studies of online political communication, legislators may use social media as a political communication tool in at least three ways: information provision on representative activity, impression management, and participatory communication (Lilleker and Koc-Michalska, 2013). In particular, impression management focuses on self-promotion, and may seek to develop public support emphasizing personality rather than policy (Lilleker and KocMichalska, 2013).

Representative Women?

157

technology among voters. World Development Indicators suggest that around a quarter of people in India in 2015 used the Internet, but this has grown rapidly in recent years; usage was estimated at only 10 per cent of the population only four years earlier in 2011.28 Similarly, mobile phone usage has increased in recent years and is much more widespread than internet usage, with more than three quarters of the population having mobile phone subscriptions (which for most would include at least SMS technology).29 Social media platforms can create a platform for individual women MPs to construct and communicate their individual political subjectivities and representational profiles outside party and parliamentary communication channels (even if their social media posts are, to an extent, shaped by party discipline and parliamentary opportunities for participation). However, online spaces, including in India, are imbued with class, gendered, and other socio-economic inequalities such that they are not neutral spaces of inclusion and participation. Anderson’s study of more than 23,000 politically related tweets, which sought to explore whether there was an under-representation of women’s political views on Twitter in India, found that almost 8 per cent of tweets were by women and 46 per cent by men (with the remainder by organizations or by users whose gender status was not specified). Trending Twitter topics in the period studied tended to be focused on male leaders or politicians (7 of 10 trending topics) which reflects and potentially reproduces the male-dominated terrain of politics (Anderson, 2015). Though Congress MP from Kerala and former union minister Shashi Tharoor was one of the earliest adopters of Twitter among Indian politicians (The Hindu, 2009c; Outlook, 2016),30 the BJP extensively used 28

The World Bank’s World Development Indicators for India in 2015 show 26 Internet users per 100 people (http://data.un.org/Data.aspx?q=in ternet&d=WDI&f=Indicator_Code%3aIT.NET.USER.P2%3bCountry_ Code%3aIND&c=2,4,5&s=Country_Name:asc,Year:desc&v=1, last accessed on 29 September 2017). 29 The World Bank’s World Development Indicators for India in 2015 show 78.8 mobile phone subscriptions per 100 people (http://data.un.org/Data.asp x?q=cellular&d=WDI&f=Indicator_Code%3aIT.CEL.SETS.P2%3bCountry_ Code%3aIND&c=2,4,5&s=Country_Name:asc,Year:desc&v=1, last accessed on 29 September 2017). 30 Tharoor used ‘Twitter to put out information the mainstream media was not interested in’ ‘for India’s “public diplomacy”’ when he was minister, and ‘[to] demystify governance and sensitise people to the daily life of a minister’ (Outlook, 2016). Plus, he claims that accessibility earns goodwill and ‘no

158

Performing Representation

social media in its 2014 election campaign; after BJP was elected to the government, the party has used Twitter as a tool of governance, with Prime Minister Narendra Modi being a keen user with more than 32 million followers as of August 2017. Congress has also used social media, although not as extensively, but this may be changing—in a 2017 interview in a popular women’s magazine, a Congress MP, Ramya Divya Spandana, commented that she had been placed in charge of social media and digital communications for the party eyeing the next general elections: ‘The 2014 elections were fought on Facebook; 2019 will be on WhatsApp’ (Femina, 2017: 26).31 According to Tharoor, social media is not yet powerful enough to win elections and conventional campaigning is still very important. However, this may change with increasing Internet connectivity. Further, traditional media pays attention to what politicians say on Twitter, and so use of social media ‘can serve to help set the agenda’ (Outlook, 2016). Social media profiling is, therefore, an important claim-making device for MPs. Communicating with the Public

Women MPs in particular have been encouraged to adopt social media to communicate with the public. During Prime Minister Modi’s speech at the first National Conference of Women Legislators in Delhi in 2016, he urged women MPs to use technology to connect with their constituents and the wider public (Modi, 2016: 239–40).32 We observed that the majority of the 62 women MPs in the 16th Lok Sabha had Twitter user accounts as of August 2017, though only around a quarter

democratic politician should resist a new communications medium, particularly an interactive one’ (Outlook, 2016). It also helps MPs to ‘eliminate the risks of misrepresentation or distortion of [their] position by others’ (Outlook, 2016). 31 However, she acknowledged some party members were ‘still shy and conservative’ about social media (Femina, July 2017: 26). She also acknowledged that BJP was very active on social media, but attributed part of the party’s popularity to ‘paid influencers’ (Femina, July 2017: 26; cf. Times of India, 2017). 32 Speech reprinted in Journal of Parliamentary Information, available on the Lok Sabha website. Modi also commented, however, ‘I am of the opinion that the women tend to adopt the technology more than men. You visit any kitchen and you will find the women using the most modern gadgets available in the kitchen with great ease … It means that the women possess a special power to adopt technology’ (Modi, 2016: 239).

Representative Women?

159

of these (17 women MPs) were verified (showing the trademark blue badge).33 Sushma Swaraj is the most prominent Twitter user among women MPs with 8.5 million followers, and is frequently cited by the media as one of the 10 most followed politicians on Twitter in the world (for example, Varadarajan, 2017; see Table 4.7). A lower number of Rajya Sabha women MPs had Twitter accounts, just over a quarter (28 per cent), many of which were unverified, but prominent exceptions included ministers Smriti Irani with nearly 6.8 million followers and Nirmala Sitharaman with nearly 1.5 million followers (the latter an early adopter from July 2009).34 Notwithstanding these exceptions, Rajya Sabha women MPs appear not to have taken to Twitter, suggesting a link between the medium and the expectations of public responsiveness of directly elected representatives. A higher proportion of Lok Sabha women MPs had active Facebook accounts, some of which were official pages and some were individual accounts being used for their public work as an MP. Some women MPs had a much higher following on Facebook than Twitter, such as Dimple Yadav, MP and wife of former chief minister Uttar Pradesh, India’s most populous state, who had more than 800,000 followers on Facebook, compared to only 4,500 on Twitter.35 What is apparent from the top 10 list women MPs on Twitter (see Table 4.7) is the dominance of BJP women MPs using this medium, in keeping with the party’s focus on social media. Ministerial status understandably helps with visibility and following. However, there is no clear counter-voice from women MPs of the Opposition, including from the left and centre left, to this online visibility. Mamata Banerjee, who has 33 However, several unverified accounts were active whereas some verified accounts were inactive with several months having elapsed since the last post. Several users who were unverified were active and regularly posted photos and updates which appeared to come from either the individual or their office/ assistants. 34 Somewhat further behind was former Rajya Sabha MP, now Lok Sabha MP since 2014, Hema Malini, with 830,000 followers, some of whom can be attributed to her enduring film career. Two other Rajya Sabha women MPs active on Twitter included senior DMK leader from Tamil Nadu, Kanimozhi, and former MP and Rajya Sabha deputy chair, Najma Heptulla, now governor of Manipur. 35 Her husband and former chief minister of Uttar Pradesh, Akhilesh Yadav, has more than four million followers on Twitter and more than six million on Facebook.

160

Performing Representation

Table 4.7 Top 10 Current Women MPs Based on the Number of Twitter Followers

Name of MP

House

Party

No. of Followers

Sushma Swaraj Smriti Irani Nirmala Sitharaman Meenakshi Lekhi Hema Malini Maneka Gandhi Poonam Mahajan Supriya Sule Kavitha Kalvakuntla Harsimrat Kaur Badal

Lok Sabha Rajya Sabha Rajya Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha Lok Sabha

BJP BJP BJP BJP BJP BJP BJP NCP TRS SAD

8.9 million 6.8 million 1.5 million 1.3 million 831,000 300,000 292,000 178,000 173,000 156,000

Source: Compiled by the authors from public profiles on Twitter, as on 8 August 2017.

more than 1.3 million Twitter followers and 2.6 million Facebook followers, is no longer an MP, having become chief minister of West Bengal in 2011, but her party is one of the largest in the Opposition. Mayawati, until recently a member of the Rajya Sabha, has no major individual presence on Twitter, but does have a following of more than 200,000 on Facebook; but BSP has a limited presence on both platforms. Instead, politically active women outside Parliament provide an alternative voice: activists such as Kavita Krishnan, a leftist women’s activist with almost 400,000 followers on Twitter, and Medha Patkar of the Narmada Bachao Andolan with 140,000 followers on Twitter are prominent examples, but neither are MPs.36 Of course, this may reflect the class biases of such online spaces and the traditional mass audience of leftist and grassroots movements. More than just presence on social media, the material women MPs post on their social media accounts provides an indication of their own self-fashioning as public representatives. Sushma Swaraj is somewhat of an exception given the intensity with which she uses Twitter to discharge her duties as minister of external affairs, interacting with Indian citizens requesting help from overseas, arranging visas for those 36 Medha Patkar contested the 2014 election on an Aam Admi Party nomination but lost. Respected Gandhian activist Aruna Roy also contributes regularly to the news media with op-eds on policy but does not appear to have an independent individual presence on Twitter and has a small following on Facebook.

Representative Women?

161

in distressing circumstances, and liaising with Indian missions abroad.37 More than one commentator thought this enabled Swaraj to sidestep the tight control that Prime Minister Modi exercised over foreign policy (Varadarajan, 2017). Other women ministers often link their social media posts to ‘broadcast’ their work. For example, Maneka Gandhi re-tweets Twitter posts by her office, the Ministry of Women and Child Development (MWCD), to broadcast the work being it carries out, but also uses hashtags to invite queries from the public (discussed further later). Generally, photographs are used regularly by women MPs depicting the MP (a) speaking at a rally or event either on a dais and/or with microphone in hand; (b) as a delegate at an international event, especially with an ‘India’ nameplate in shot; (c) with a senior party leader; (d) among the people in their constituencies, sometimes inspecting works or giving away certificates or other awards; and (e) speaking in Parliament with links to online videos, or more rarely, photographs of questions they have asked. Through these social media performances, they construct self-representations as leaders and public representatives; they position themselves as connected locally, nationally, and internationally, to national party leadership, to international reputed institutions, to international networks. Some broadcast greetings on festival days and in advance of, or following, important events, thus communicating their accessibility and participation in community life and respect for the events of the diverse communities they represent. Uttar Pradesh MP Dimple Yadav’s Facebook post conveying Eid greetings in June 2017, for example, received more than 118,000 ‘likes’. Women MPs can also be seen exchanging personal greetings, birthday wishes, and condolences on Twitter to each other, such as BJP women MPs to SAD MP Harsimrat Kaur Badal on her birthday in July 2017, suggesting a sense of mutual respect and collegiality, though it is unclear whether this is a 37

Several studies suggest that in their use of social media, politicians have favoured participatory communication strategies the least. This would make Swaraj an exception not just among politicians in India but globally too, though Arvind Kejriwal used Google Hangouts to interact with potential voters. In terms of self-representation in social media, Swaraj pinned a tweet on her Twitter page (dated 11 August 2016) showing a photograph holding hands with her husband outside the Parliament House gate (she also later pinned a tweet showing a historical photograph of herself and her husband with Jayaprakash Narayan during the anti-Emergency movement). One reading of this suggests that Swaraj is tempering her political achievements with a reminder of her status as a wife, a conservative rebalancing of work with family and marriage.

162

Performing Representation

reflection of the same in non-virtual spaces or if such online interaction can sometimes bring into being that sense of connection. Through social media, active women MPs also showcase their work for their constituents, signalling the respect, prestige, and status afforded to them by others. Photography generates recognition in more ways than one (Rose, 2012). Photographs function in the manner of documenting and broadcasting a representative’s ‘darshan’ (viewing/meeting) with senior party figures, an important marker of political status for constituents, voters, party workers, and other representatives (Bedi, 2016). Having party leaders or political heavyweights in the same frame as the MP is often used to generate greater visibility for the MP. The Facebook profile picture of an MP (Kothapalli Geetha) from Andhra Pradesh, for example, shows her standing with Prime Minister Modi, despite the fact that she is from a different party; her cover picture depicts her as a delegate at an international event. Her publicly accessible Facebook photos document a trip to London (UK) with other women MPs. Likewise, a woman MP (Sushmita Dev) from the North East has in her cover photo on Twitter a senior party leader (Rahul Gandhi) from a party rally. The photo appears to have been taken onstage and from behind him, signalling proximity and trust. Social media photos with party leaders perform a similar function as party campaign posters where representatives or candidates are placed alongside important party leaders as an indication of endorsement and allegiance; yet these photos convey a more ‘authentic’ function as a result their quasi-lived/staged qualities compared to the artificiality of digitally manipulated party posters which suggest but do not as confidently convey proximity. Not all follow this pattern however. A senior Lok Sabha woman MP (Kavitha Kalvakuntla) from a southern state depicts only herself in her profile picture and a campaign initiative as her cover photo with no clear mention of her party, suggesting a confident sense of autonomy; similarly Lok Sabha SAD MP Harsimrat Kaur Badal’s Twitter cover image contains three images of her with other women and frames her as listening to an elderly lady (left image), seated and surrounded by younger women (middle image), and presenting an award (right image) but with no depiction of either party or other party leaders. Others have profile and cover pictures with other women MPs at events, which suggest collegiality and community and to some extent a celebration of ‘micro-celebrity’.38 38

Personal websites of MPs also convey the self-representation of women MPs but on a different platform, accessible online but one step removed from

Representative Women?

163

Social Media as Gendered Space: Visibility, Accessibility, and Gender-Based Violence Online

As has been seen in other parts of the world,39 women in India have faced considerable abuse online. Kovacs, Kaul Padte, and Shobha (2013) of the Internet Democracy Project found that ‘vocal (and often liberal) women are seen as a threat to a male dominated Internet structure in a manner similar to the way in which the visible, loitering woman is seen as a threat to a male dominated public [street]’ (Kovacs et al., 2013; cited in Anderson, 2015: 6). Thus, ‘women who take up space online, particularly when it involves politically charged issues, are often treated as trespassers in a male space’ (Anderson, 2015: 6). Senior Indian journalist Barkha Dutt observed ‘the lynch mobs of the virtual world, come hunting in packs for the women they disapprove of … [R]ape threats to women are startlingly commonplace on social media … [T]rolling is a modern-day weapon of patriarchs; an attempt to control, intimidate and eventually silence women’ (Dutt, 2017). Leftist feminist activist Kavita Krishnan was subjected to rape threats when she participated in a live online forum discussion about violence against women (Arya, 2013). For a while now BJP has tried to distance itself from what has become known as ‘Modi bhakts’—BJP followers who respond to critics of PM Modi and the party, often in aggressive and abusive ways. But the party has been accused of condoning online abuse: in 2016, journalist Swati Chaturvedi published a book on online ‘trolling’ which included an account by a BJP social media volunteer who had worked for the party during the 2014 election campaign. The party volunteer claimed that she and her colleagues were asked to target senior political figures and

social media. On the homepage of the personal website of one BJP woman MP from Madhya Pradesh, for example, three pictures rotate on a slideshow gallery—one shows the MP at what appears to be an international event with the ‘India’ name plaque immediately in front; the second shows the MP with an elderly woman; and the third shows the MP with two men, one on either side of her, waving at what appears to be a large public event with a couple of security personnel in the background (though we do not see who they are gesturing to). No further details are provided, suggesting the function of impression management rather than information provision. 39 One recent high-profile example can be seen, following the UK election in June 2017, in Prime Minister Theresa May ordering an inquiry into the online intimidation and abuse suffered by election candidates (Mason, 2017).

164

Performing Representation

journalists with critical messages; she quit when the criticisms ventured into abusive messages (Safi, 2016). In July 2016, BJP MP and minister for women and child development, Maneka Gandhi, asked women affected by online abuse, particularly sexual harassment, to email her or include the hashtag #IAmTrolledHelp in their posts so that the ministry and the NCW could be alerted to their case and intervene where possible (Indian Express, 2017). However, Gandhi also became the recipient of misogynistic criticism when, as minister of women and child development, she conducted a series of #AskManeka live chats on the social media platform Facebook to solicit feedback and suggestions from the public. On 29 June 2017 she received a large number of questions from Men’s Rights Activists asking about paternal custody of children, male suicide rates, misuse of laws made for women which result in false charges on men, domestic violence perpetrated by women, and suggesting bias of her ministry towards women (Ananya, 2017).40 Thus if social media is becoming an increasingly important space for making representative claims and performing representative duties, the gender and class inequalities being reproduced in such spaces create a new set of exclusions in Indian democratic politics which will add to those already existing offline.41 *** In this chapter, we explored who are the women in Parliament and what kind of claims they make to represent women and how. We explored 40

See the Government of India’s press release referring to previous events: http://pib.nic.in/newsite/PrintRelease.aspx?relid=145850, last accessed on 25 April 2018. 41 Online abuse is very important but only affects certain groups of women in India. Because social media sites such as Twitter tend to be middle-class dominated, this may be a problem mostly confined to middle-class women. Relatedly, debates about public safety of women have focused too heavily on middle-class-oriented solutions using technology such as smartphone apps that are less accessible to working-class women. Also the BJP’s more recent focus on maternity/paternity leave affects only women in the organized sector and, thus, a tiny proportion of women in the workforce. Also working-class and lowercaste women routinely face violence in public spaces as a result of caste–gender discrimination. But if the trend towards increasing adoption of digital communication continues, gender-based violence in online spaces affecting democratic participation will likely become more, and not less, of a problem unless it is directly addressed.

Representative Women?

165

the notion of women’s under-representation in Parliament more deeply, examining intersectional dimensions over time, arguing that these intersections were important to women’s relative inclusion or exclusion. We emphasized how women MPs have an undeniable elite status, especially related to class, but that their ‘representativeness’ and ‘authenticity’ as women is more complex and needs to be interpreted through multiple lenses and across multiple axes of socio-economic privilege and marginality. For example, processes of democratization in Indian politics, like the increasing presence and influence of OBC politicians in electoral politics, have not necessarily been mirrored among women from the same societal groups in the same way. We also explored the myriad ways in which women MPs, some more than others, have been rendered as ‘Othered’ bodies in political spaces, both physical and virtual. We showed how women MPs use various venues and mechanisms, inside Parliament and beyond, to articulate claims to represent women. While women MPs do often make claims to represent women, invoking their own identity to legitimize these, they are often not made using feminist tropes. In addition, women MPs temper overt critiques of Indian patriarchal society with more conciliatory tones to manage conflict and backlash. Women MPs also, understandably, have competing obligations to represent constituency and party interests in addition to issues they personally might feel connected to in terms of interests and their own political subjectivity; some of the most creative representative claims consist of complex multilayered claims combining many of their priorities, making the process of ‘reading’ and interpreting representative claims a complex task. Some women MPs have more recently taken to social media to perform acts of representation: the minority use this as a tool of governance and/or to articulate representative claims more freely, others to perform self-representation and construct their political subjectivities as MPs. However, the flip side is that new forms of gendered and class-based inequalities of access mean that these spaces can be just as hostile to women in politics as the non-virtual world. Nivedita Menon has argued: Feminist politics has been coming to the difficult recognition that ‘women’ do not simply exist as a category that is available for feminist mobilisation—the question then remains, who is the subject of feminist politics? If ‘women’ must be located within the grid of other identities that circulate, then what a feminist position would be…is not so selfevident. For what we are talking about here is more than simply the truism that ‘women have many identities’. We must go further than saying

166

Performing Representation

that ‘women’ mobilise as upper caste/dalit and so on. Rather, we need to come to the more complex recognition that under different circumstances, and given different kinds of political mobilisation, ‘people’ identify and come together as ‘dalits’, ‘Muslims’, ‘working class’, or much less often, as ‘women’. This is the difficult political fact to face—that women coming together as upper caste/dalit may not necessarily be coming together as upper caste/dalit women. We are forced to see the creation of ‘woman-as-subject’ as the end goal of feminist politics, not the starting point. (Menon, 2004: 179)

However, our analysis shows that even women-as-subject has been invoked in highly conservative forms; so the idea that this is the end goal remains unconvincing, as multiple renderings of ‘woman’ as a subject come under contestation. We would argue that women in politics are very much made aware of their position as women when they enter the political field, whether they like it or not—an intersectional analysis allows us to become aware of how working through the politics of becoming women/Dalits/Muslim remains a gendered process.

Representative Women?

167

Appendix

Table 4A.1 Proportion of MPs across General and Reserved Seats in the 10th to 16th Lok Sabhas

Total Lok Sabha\Seats GEN 16th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 15th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 14th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 13th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 12th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 11th Lok Sabha Number Percentage 10th Lok Sabhaa Number Percentage

SC

Men ST GEN SC

Women ST GEN SC

ST

412 84 47 368 72 41 44 12 6 76% 15% 9% 77% 15% 9% 71% 19% 10% 412 84 47 371 72 42 41 12 76% 15% 9% 76% 15% 9% 71% 21%

5 9%

412 84 47 366 72 42 46 12 76% 15% 9% 76% 15% 9% 78% 20%

1 2%

423 79 41 384 69 38 39 10 78% 14% 8% 78% 14% 8% 75% 19%

3 6%

423 79 41 394 67 39 29 12 78% 14% 8% 79% 13% 8% 67% 28%

2 5%

423 79 41 397 69 37 26 10 4 78% 14% 8% 79% 14% 7% 65% 25% 10% 423 79 41 393 74 37 31b 5 5c 78% 14% 8% 78% 15% 7% 76% 12% 12%

Source: Lok Sabha website and ECI reports (various years covering elections to Lok Sabhas in table; figures may not add up exactly to 100% due to rounding). Notes: a Includes MPs elected in Punjab Lok Sabha constituencies in 1992 after President’s Rule was lifted. See Figures 4.1 and 4.2 for graphic representations of this data; b One more woman was later elected in a bye-election, included here; c One more woman was later elected in a bye-election, included here.

5

Women Members of Parliament Presence and Participation in Parliamentary Debates

I stand here as a woman, as a mother, and as a proud daughter. I have seen the entire House and the sense of the House … I do see a gender bias in this room that we are all working in towards building our nation … Very few men have really flagged the issue that here we are not talking about men’s rights. We are talking about the security of women … We should not forget why we are here and the sentiment of the nation today. (Supriya Sule, MP [NCP], speaking on violence against women in the Criminal Law Amendment Bill debate [LS Debates, 2013a]) Millions of women look up to us that this House here will do something concrete to make their life better, and to ensure that they feel safe and secure in their own country. (Harsimrat Kaur Badal, MP [SAD], speaking on International Women’s Day in the Lok Sabha [LS Debates, 2013a])

ne of the most important aspects of an MP’s role is to deliberate. O Debates in Parliament are also highly performative moments where reputations are made and unmade. Participating in debates is arguably the most visible work women MPs perform in Parliament. But pessimistic public discourse around inclusion of women in politics often depicts women MPs as gungi gudiya1 (dumb dolls) who cannot or do not speak in Parliament. When women do speak, their performances are often critically and disproportionately scrutinized to decipher whether 1 Indira Gandhi was also called this even as she took on the leadership of a divided Congress in 1966.

Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0006

Women Members of Parliament

169

they adequately represent women’s interests in Parliament, despite being elected to diverse constituencies and subject to the same obligations of party loyalty and party discipline as male MPs. To understand better the relationship between women, gender, and political institutions, and the possibilities for representational claimmaking, we need to pay attention to what Mackay calls the ‘internal dynamics of institutions in terms of the daily enactment of institutions and the “doing” of gender’ (2008: 126). As we have been arguing, institutional and personal gendered histories of Parliament, political parties, individual MPs and their families, constituents, and citizens of different identities and experiences, shape how women MPs are able to perform the claims of politics (see also Franceschet and Piscopo, 2008; Mackay 2008: 127). Similarly, Franceschet and Piscopo argue in a different context that ‘legislators’ attempts to represent women will be mediated by the norms and procedures that shape the institutional environment’ (2008: 399). If we assume that women (in fact all) MPs want to perform well in debates, to be visible, make an impact and a good impression, whether for constituents, party, or otherwise; if they all want to be re-elected, to make effective representative claims on behalf of their constituents, parties, and their own beliefs; if they want their performances as parliamentarians to be deemed convincing, even admirable, then most, if not all, women MPs are placed in a difficult position. Generally, MPs in India face institutional constraints on time and speaking rights because of competition for visibility in a highly fragmented party system; in addition, seniority norms place most women MPs lower in the hierarchy of speaking rights (see Chapter 4). They also face a ‘burden of representation’ (Puwar, 2004) as a marginal and minority group in Parliament, meaning their representative choices may be more constrained and their performances will be scrutinized more closely. Of course, not all women MPs are marginal actors in debates in Parliament. In the 15th Lok Sabha, Sushma Swaraj served as leader of the opposition in the Lok Sabha and Meira Kumar was speaker of the Lok Sabha. Similarly, in the 16th Lok Sabha, women MPs such as Speaker Sumitra Mahajan and several BJP women played prominent roles in debates. However, women MPs are also not a homogeneous group in terms of caste, religion, region, and so on, and the intersections of gender and other identities (see Chapter 4) can influence their speaking rights and the representative claims they perform in parliamentary debates. The ascriptive identity of women MPs as women, as

170

Performing Representation

a minority group in Parliament, means that most are relatively marginalized within Parliament, particularly in terms of how they perform political representation in chamber debates and how these performances are read by public audiences. These dynamics become particularly visible in debates where ‘women’s questions’ are the subject of the legislation being debated. We find speaking rights are often framed by the ascriptive identities of women, especially in debates that focus on gender issues: so while women MPs often demand greater inclusion in debates by referring to their marginal position in Parliament, them evoking of their ascriptive identity often constrains the reception of their interventions. While debates are performatively important for MPs, asking questions in Parliament, while quite distinct from debates, is also important in terms of participation, claim-making, and making a reputation. Our interviews with MPs show that this can be a useful alternative mechanism to counter limited opportunities to participate in debates. In this chapter we seek a more detailed insight into specific gendered dynamics of performance through a close reading of selected debates as well as discussion of questions in Parliament. The debates we discuss are the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005 and the NREGA debated in August 2005, and the high-profile Motion of Confidence in July 2008, prompted by governing coalition disagreements over the Indo-US Civil Nuclear Energy Agreement. We have purposely chosen these three debates to compare as explicitly (Domestic Violence Act) and implicitly (Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act [MGNREGA] and Motion of Confidence) gendered debates. We study the representative claims women MPs make in debates, how claims to represent women are made by both men and women MPs, and how gender is constituted in parliamentary debates. Our analysis of debates on the domestic violence bill in 2005 suggests that when the legislation is explicitly gendered, this affects performances of political representation: many women MPs participated in this debate and made special claims to represent women; they also questioned the lack of concern among male MPs in the debate and the low visibility of the issue in Parliament generally. The NREGA debates, which focused on rural development, employment, and income security, appeared prima facie to be less overtly focused on women despite several aspects of the scheme being famously designed to ensure that women would be able to access and benefit from the scheme. Given the importance of this scheme, the debates were also more high-profile, described as ‘historic’, and as an example of Parliament at its best. The 2008 Motion of

Women Members of Parliament

171

Confidence debate focused on foreign policy and energy security—often considered male domains in policy arenas—and also concerned the survival of the government; so the stakes were high and seniority among MPs played a strong role in determining who spoke in the debate, with a notable absence of the participation of women MPs. While these three debates took place during the same parliamentary term of the second UPA government, we do not limit our coverage to this period, but draw from other debates to further illustrate the broader dynamics of how representation is performed in parliamentary debates across a longer period. We begin with an empirical question concerning the participation of women and men MPs in debates: who participates and who does not; we then discuss how institutional norms governing access to participation in debates affect women MPs’ performance.

‘Where Are the Women?’ Data on Women MPs’ Participation in Parliamentary Debates Women are and have always been in a numerical minority in the Indian Parliament, but are the claims that they do not speak borne out by data on participation? How does the participation of the average man and woman MP compare? Data2 on participation in debates and questions by non-ministerial3 MPs suggest that on average, men speak more often in debates than women, though it depends on what kind of average is measured.4 Taking a median average rather than a numerical average, 2

The source is ‘MP Track’ data collected by PRS Legislative Research sourced from the Parliament website and is publicly available to download from the PRS website: http://www.prsindia.org (last accessed on 7 April 2017). Similar data is also available for the Rajya Sabha but is less comparable: the data covers the period 2009–16 but each MP’s term starts at different points. The data would require further treatment or construction of a new dataset which is beyond the scope of this chapter. 3 Ministers are excluded from the data as their participation differs due to their role. Some MP’s participation covers only part of a full parliamentary term. 4 The mean average is 31 debates for men and 25 debates for women during the 14th Lok Sabha, whereas the median, which is more likely to reflect the ‘average’ MP’s activity because it is less skewed by extreme figures, shows less of a gender gap: 14 debates for women and 15 debates for men. In the 15th Lok Sabha, the mean average participation in debates increased for both men and women to 36 and 29 respectively, but the median for men and women showed women’s slightly higher participation—23 to 20 respectively.

172

Performing Representation

which tends to be skewed by extremes, the average male and female MP participated in a similar number of debates, and in fact in the 15th Lok Sabha, the average for women MPs was higher. But the majority of very frequent speakers—outliers—are men (see Figures 5.1 and 5.2, and Tables 5.1 and 5.2). The number of frequent women speakers in the 15th Lok Sabha increased compared to the previous Parliament,5 but the

Figure 5.1 ‘Gender’

Box Plots Showing Participation in Debates of 14th Lok Sabha by

Source: MP Track-14, PRS Legislative Research (available at http://www. prsindia.org/MPTrack-14.xls).

5

In the 14th Lok Sabha, C. S. Sujatha, a first-term woman MP of the CPI(M), elected to an SC-reserved constituency in Kerala, and serving her first term in Parliament, was the lone outlier for participation, speaking in 80 debates. C. S. Sujatha did not contest the 2009 Lok Sabha election, but contested the state assembly election in Kerala in 2011 election, losing narrowly to the Congress (male) incumbent having secured 42 per cent votes polled, with a margin of less than 10 per cent of votes.

Women Members of Parliament

Figure 5.2

173

Box Plot of Gender and Debates in the 15th Lok Sabha

Source: MP Track-15, PRS Legislative Research (http://www.prsindia.org/ MPTrack-15.xls).

most frequent speakers among men still participated more often than their female counterparts in both Parliaments.6 Table 5.1 Sabha

Gender-Disaggregated Analysis of MP Participation in the14th Lok

Average (Mean)

Average (Median)

High

Low

Participation Women Men Women Men Women Men Women Men Debates Questions Attendance

25 115 70%

31 185 70%

14 53 73%

15 98 73%

80 684 94%

340 1255 100%

1 0 18%

0 0 4%

Source: Calculations by the author based on data available from PRS Legislative Research (MP Track-14) (http://www.prsindia.org/MPTrack-14.xls). 6

Compared to C. S. Sujatha’s 80 debates, Shailendra Kumar of the Samajwadi Party elected from Uttar Pradesh spoke in 340 debates during the 14th Lok Sabha. In the 15th Lok Sabha, Jhansi Botcha Lakshmi, a female

174

Performing Representation

Table 5.2 Sabha

Gender-Disaggregated Analysis of MP Participation in the 15th Lok

Average (Mean)

Average (Median)

High

Low

Participation Women Men Women Men Women Men Women Men Debates Questions Attendance

29 218 78%

36 283 76%

23 140 83%

20 218 80%

146 430 739 1266 100% 100%

0 0 14%

0 0 1%

Source: Calculations by the author based on data available from PRS Legislative Research (available at http://www.prsindia.org/MPTrack-15.xls).

Seniority within parliamentary parties may have enabled some men to speak in more debates in the 14th Lok Sabha (illustrated in detail later in the chapter). Among the top 10 most frequent women speakers, few held senior parliamentary posts such as leader or deputy leader of their parliamentary party, compared to the same list for men MPs. We see a similar but not as stark a pattern for the 15th Lok Sabha, where most of the top 10 men speakers were still senior but that seniority was based more on political experience rather than senior parliamentary posts.7 The top 10 most active women parliamentarians in debates in both the 14th and 15th Lok Sabhas were mostly serving their first or second terms in the Parliament, including the leading woman MP, C. S. Sujatha, for whom it was the first term. The exceptions are Sushma Swaraj (leader of the opposition from Winter Session 2009), and veteran MP Sumitra Mahajan, who was serving her seventh term in the 15th Lok Sabha (see Tables 5.3 and 5.4).

Congress MP from Andhra Pradesh, spoke in 146 debates, whereas Arjun Ram Meghwal, a BJP MP from Rajasthan, spoke in 430 debates. 7 Shailendra Kumar again appears near the top but he has now joined the Business Advisory Committee; another is a former Cabinet minister, also on the Panel of Chairmen, and vice-president of his party as well as serving his fifth term in Parliament (Raghuvansh Prasad Singh); two first-time MPs but with significant experience in UP state politics (P. L. Punia, Jagdambika Pal); a fifthterm MP serving as BJP’s deputy whip (Virendra Kumar); and a fourth-term MP who was similarly active in debates in the 14th Lok Sabha (Bhartruhari Mahtab).

Women Members of Parliament

Table 5.3

175

Top 10 Women MPs by Participation in Debates (14th Lok Sabha)

Name

State

C. S. Sujatha Tejasvini Gowda Jayaben B. Thakkar P. Satheedevi Sumitra Mahajan Archana Nayak Minati Sen

Kerala CPI(M) Karnataka INC

80 74

140 1

84% 66%

Gujarat

BJP

72

439

65%

Kerala Madhya Pradesh Orissa West Bengal Rajasthan

CPI(M) BJP

66 61

148 206

81% 82%

BJD CPI(M)

58 54

89 126

79% 71%

BJP

52

314

67%

INC

49

115

86%

INC

45

103

83%

Kiran Maheshwari Pratibha Singh Jhansi Botcha Lakshmi

Himachal Pradesh Andhra Pradesh

Party

Debates Questions Attendance in Parliament

Source: Adapted by the authors based on data available from PRS Legislative Research (MPTrack-14, available at http://www.prsindia.org/MPTrack-14.xls).

In a study of the questions asked in the Lok Sabha between 1980 and 2009, Ayyangar and Jacob found that ‘substantially fewer questions are asked by MPs from historically marginalized groups (women and STs, but not SCs), and marginalized states (Northeastern states)’ (2014: 2). They estimated that women tend to ask 23–6 per cent fewer questions than men. Our analysis of the PRS data appears to show similar findings—that male MPs, on average, appear to ask more questions than female MPs. During the 14th Lok Sabha, on average (mean) women MPs asked 115 questions and men asked 185. But women MPs were hardly inactive. Nivedita Mane, a second-term MP from NCP, elected from Maharashtra, asked 684 questions over the course of her five-year parliamentary term, equivalent to around 45 per session on the basis of 3 sessions per year (see Table 5.5).8 Though the leading male counterpart 8

There is a discrepancy between the PRS data and the Lok Sabha Question Search data—the latter suggests Mane asked 746 questions during the 14th Lok Sabha.

176

Performing Representation

Table 5.4

Top 10 Women MPs by Participation in Debates (15th Lok Sabha)

Name

State

Jhansi Botcha Lakshmi Jayshreeben Kanubhai Patel Sushma Swaraj

Andhra INC Pradesh Gujarat BJP

Ratna De Rama Devi Jyoti Dhurve Darshana Vikram Jardosh Sumitra Mahajan Putul Kumari J. Helen Davidson

Party

Debates Questions Attendance in Parliament 146

377

88%

132

515

84%

BJP

112

43

94%

Trinamool Congress BJP BJP

100

174

83%

84 74

627 373

88% 83%

BJP

71

337

87%

Madhya BJP Pradesh Bihar Independent Tamil DMK Nadu

60

567

87%

49 47

118 193

88% 82%

Madhya Pradesh West Bengal Bihar Madhya Pradesh Gujarat

Source: Adapted by the authors based on data available from PRS Legislative Research (MPTrack-15, available at http://www.prsindia.org/MPTrack-15.xls).

asked almost double the number of questions, she still asked more questions than the large majority (436) of male MPs. Seniority appears to be less important for leading questioners among male MPs, when compared to questioners in debates.9 Furthermore, our most frequent question poser, Nivedita Mane, participated infrequently in debates, as did three other women MPs among the top 10 questioners; so, submitting questions appears to have been their preferred instrument to raise issues in Parliament. However, three women MPs (all from BJP) were active in both debates and

9 Seven of the top 10 male MPs asking questions held no senior parliamentary party position; the remainder include a parliamentary party leader (Braja Kishore Tripathy of BJP), the sole MP from All India Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul Muslimeen [AIMIM] (Asaduddin Owaisi), and a former chief whip of Shiv Sena (Anandrao Vithoba Adsul).

Maharashtra Orissa Gujarat Rajasthan Uttar Pradesh Uttar Pradesh Maharashtra Maharashtra Madhya Pradesh Andhra Pradesh

Nivedita Mane Sangeeta Kumari Singh Deo Jayaben B. Thakkar Kiran Maheshwari Maneka Gandhi P. Jaya Prada Nahata Kalpana Ramesh Narhire Bhavana Pundlikrao Gawali Sumitra Mahajan Daggubati Purandeswari

NCP BJP BJP BJP BJP SP SS SS BJP INC

Party 5 13 72 52 20 27 11 6 61 28

Debates 0 0 0 0 0 3 0 0 0 4

Private Members’ Bills 684 467 439 314 279 269 249 244 206 194

Questions

54% 77% 65% 67% 72% 43% 70% 60% 82% 81%

Attendance in Parliament

Source: Adapted based on data available from PRS Legislative Research (MPTrack-14, available at http://www.prsindia.org/MPTrack-14.xls).

State

Top 10 Women MPs by Number of Questions Asked (14th Lok Sabha)

Name

Table 5.5

178

Performing Representation

questions—Jayaben Thakkar, Kiran Maheswari, and Sumitra Mahajan. All three were experienced opposition MPs in the 14th Lok Sabha.10 Thus, data on participation contests the notion that women MPs do not speak in Parliament. The data also contests some stereotypical assumptions about women from particular social groups or those who have been elected to Parliament under particular circumstances. For example, the most frequent speaker in debates among women MPs was elected to an SC-reserved constituency on a CPM ticket. These ‘report-card’ style data collections on Indian MPs’ performances have become popular with Indian media sites, which have drawn upon this and other kinds of data to make judgements about whether MPs represent value for taxpayers’ money (see Chapter 7) and are working hard to represent constituents’ interests.11 Such data can shape public perception of the efficacy of particular MPs, though the magnitude of this effect is hard to measure. Some of the more abysmal performances, such as near to non-existent attendance, justifiably warrant criticism. Also, lower levels of participation may signify the endurance of internal exclusion of marginalized groups that manage to get elected to Parliament. But beyond this, quantitative data on participation in debates and questions can only tell us so much about ‘performance’. For example, higher levels of participation are not always synonymous with meaningful and effective activity; indeed some MPs may submit a high number of questions but these may not be effective in holding the executive to account while a few incisive questions may do the job (Singh, 2016). Quantitative data alone cannot give us an insight into substantive meaning, quality, and significance, nor does it take into account the multiple roles that MPs perform in Parliament and the presence of women in key debates.12 As 10 However, of the three, only one returned to the 15th Lok Sabha. While Kiran Maheswari resigned from the Lok Sabha to contest state-level elections, Jayaben Thakkar’s activity in Parliament did not ensure her re-nomination to contest elections for the 15th Lok Sabha. 11 For example, some ‘celebrity’ Rajya Sabha members came in for both praise and criticism in 2016 (Lall, 2016, see also Sivakumar, 2015). Online news sites India Today and Live Mint produced their online interactive composite report cards combining data from a number of sources in addition to those presented here (India Today, 2014a, 2014b; R. Krishnan, 2014). 12 Even basic considerations might include how long they spoke for, at what point of the debate they spoke, whether they laid their speech on the table, and for questions, whether they were starred or unstarred, with the former being asked on the floor of the house thereby giving greater visibility to the member.

Women Members of Parliament

179

we discuss further later, women MPs were disproportionately present among speakers in the 2005 debates on domestic violence legislation, but disproportionately absent in the 2005 NREGA debates and the 2008 Motion of Confidence debates. Institutional norms and culture and analyses of representative claim-making in debates can shed more light on what shapes women’s participation and performance of representation in parliamentary debates.

Institutional Norms Shaping Access to Debates: Speaking Rights, Seniority, and Sexism in the Chamber Implicit in analyses of individual MPs’ performances is an assumption that MPs have more control over their participation in debates than they actually do. Speaking Rights

The process of acquiring ‘speaking rights’ is affected by institutional gatekeeping and, in turn, affects the representative claims that legislators can make. Piscopo (2011: 456) suggests that in the Argentine legislature there are two ways in which parliamentarians receive ‘speaking rights’ in debates: either due to an MP’s knowledge based on involvement with the prior legislative process of a bill under discussion or having asked for and been granted permission to speak by their party leadership. This is particularly the case for female legislators, who are often a marginalized group within legislative institutions. In the Indian Parliament, opportunities to speak in debates are fiercely contested in the chamber and controlled both by parliamentary and party gatekeepers. In our research, we found that seniority, expertise, understanding and using parliamentary rules and procedures, and mentoring can help women MPs put themselves forward. The Business Advisory Committee, made up of government and opposition party leaders in the house, schedules time. The government presents the legislative agenda to the committee, which allocates time in the legislative business agenda proportionate to the importance of the issue. Time is assigned to each party based on their numerical strength in the house. Who gets to speak in the debates from each party is largely a decision made by each parliamentary party, though MPs may approach the speaker directly. Two interviewees from two different national parties suggested that a similar internal deliberative process is gone through at

180

Performing Representation

the party level, with the final decision on speakers being made by the parliamentary party leadership. Every week we have a meeting of all the members of Parliament of the party. And in ours we have a floor leader, a chief whip, a leader of our party, we have our party president. Everybody gets together and decides what … to raise in the Parliament and how we are going to raise it. See it’s a national party and so you can’t be constituency centric. You have to look at national issues. So those are the things that are discussed, thoroughly discussed, then leadership decides who, what, how, and when. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

The Rajya Sabha MP suggested that there are similar but less frequent meetings, perhaps because there are fewer MPs from her party in Parliament: We have a meeting at the beginning of the House session who will speak on what. So we don’t have much of a problem … We get chances because in our party we have some kind of democracy, some kind of equal distribution is there. [O]ther than this, we always demand our leader that we can give a notice on women issues also. But I think they have to give more importance to that. But otherwise speaking on bills or getting chances, I think we don’t have much problem in my party. And zero hours, special mentions or any other things, we can give, we don’t have to wait for [party approval] … and we get support also. (MP37, 7 May 2015)

As noted above, parties can approach individual MPs directly to speak on a specific issue, due to their expertise or constituency profile. A former woman MP in the Lok Sabha explained, ‘Anything to do with [her city]. Or anything to do with … cities, they would ask me, you know I think you should speak on this subject. Please give your perspective of it’ (MP11, 30 March 2014). Thus, MPs from particular constituencies or with particular expertise or background may be approached, and as such women MPs’ identity as women is rarely completely determinant of the opportunities they receive from their party. However, seniority can have a cascading effect. Parties submit names for the speaker to call on, but the speaker has discretion over whom to call on to speak and seniority often wins. However, while important, seniority is not the only factor in speaker selection. Another issue is that of time allocation: the time taken by a party’s first and subsequent speakers in the debate reduces the time available to those further down the party’s list of designated speakers. So, if initial speakers speak for longer than assigned, they eat away at their

Women Members of Parliament

181

fellow party members’ time. As one former woman MP from the Lok Sabha explained, You have a lot of people wanting to speak, and because we are a very large party, not everybody gets that chance … [O]r … at the end of it you have a minute to speak. And you’re then like ‘I don’t think so, I’ll just lay it on the table … [laughter] … forget it’. You know, so you’ve got so many thoughts but it does not work that way. (MP11, 30 March 2014)

Furthermore, one Lok Sabha MP suggested that with diminished numbers of party MPs relative to the previous Parliament, opportunities for speaking were fewer because the time allocated to the party overall is less (MP46, 4 May 2015). But another MP from the same party suggested that smaller numbers increased opportunities and responsibilities for remaining party MPs (MP10, 14 May 2015). The message and image a party wants to convey in Parliament, such as supporting younger MPs in order to generate more support among younger voters can also affect who gets to speak in debates: an MP’s positioning within the party makes a difference and, therefore, is not always determined by seniority in terms of the length of service or experience as a parliamentarian (MP46, 4 May 2015). Beyond conventional plenary debates, MPs’ contributions are shaped more by parliamentary than party rules. MPs can submit as many questions as they like; questions are chosen by lottery administered by the Parliament secretariat and so is much less affected by parliamentary or party gate-keeping. Indeed Jacob (2014: 238) suggests that the Question Hour in the Indian Parliament is ‘the only open plenary that gives women—a historically marginalized group—the opportunity for expressing voice without party or other strictures’. This mechanism is, thus, relatively more open to women MPs to perform representation. Comparing different parliamentary mechanisms, a woman MP in the Lok Sabha summarized her experience as follows: The way the system works is [based on] certain instruments in the Parliament procedure which depends on your party leadership, how they decide whether they’ll give you an opportunity. There are a lot of political considerations also on who’s going to say what. And there are certain instruments in the parliamentary procedure which depend on you, whether you choose to move it … Our parliamentary system is quite adequate … [W]e have ample opportunity to raise our voice in the Parliament. Some depends on luck, because of the lottery system. The question hour also depends on the lottery system. Irrespective of that, I

182

Performing Representation

think enough mechanisms are not dependent on your luck. But still time is a constraint because everybody wants to speak … [B]ut … the system is pretty good. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

When faced with limited access to debates, knowledge of the rules can help MPs perform representation more effectively in other types of interactions in the chamber. One former woman MP, Krishna Bose, who was first elected to Parliament in 1996 (11th Lok Sabha), recalled that she received very little party or Parliament-based training (see also Chapter 9). Mentoring helps. Geeta Mukherjee, a long-serving MP, served as a presiding officer in the Lok Sabha and recalled helping newer members learn under which rules they needed to raise the issues they had identified (Mukherjee, 1992). Such informal learning processes while important are also pretty hit-and-miss; those with greater social capital are better able to negotiate these than others. Reputations and Representative Claim-making

A reputation as a ‘good speaker’ can sometimes trump seniority when it comes to being asked to participate in debates. MPs are sensitive and responsive to feedback on their parliamentary performances. They make use of the Parliament secretariat’s audiovisual unit to collect recordings of their contributions to debates as evidence of their performance of representation for their constituents (Rai, 2014: 36). Some MPs also receive text messages from party workers and constituents complimenting them on their speeches (MP20, 16 July 2009). But what makes for an effective parliamentary performance? The Parliament secretariat produced its own training video on ‘How to be an effective parliamentarian’, including interviews with prominent MPs, and also runs a number of orientation programmes for new MPs (as we discuss in Chapter 9). But many MPs we spoke to argued that the best training on parliamentary oration they can receive is from watching debates while sitting in the chamber and learning from experience. A first-term woman MP in the Lok Sabha told us: You always watch senior parliamentarians talk and there are so many of them who speak well, who know their subject well, so you learn … For instance, when I first won, I was very aggressive in my speech vis-á-vis volume. So a senior parliamentarian from across the benches [said] ‘speak a normal tone, because … substantively what you are saying will be heard better’. Right? Once the speaker also said ‘you are very well prepared …

Women Members of Parliament

183

but you have to be more calm in your delivery’. And I thought that was good feedback. Everything is not shouting at each other in Parliament. So everybody helps everybody, doesn’t matter which party you are in. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

Media commentary on parliamentary debates also give an indication of what constitutes ‘effective’ performances for public audiences; and MPs are avid readers of such analyses—of their own and of others’ speeches. For example, senior Congress leader Rahul Gandhi’s parliamentary interventions have been deeply dissected by political commentators and editors, with one commenting: His Parliament performance … made impact because for the first time he was speaking like a genuine, and cynical, parliamentarian: witty, with well-timed pauses and delivery, a calculated punch here, a jab there … Rahul has now started to make eye contact with the audience and also with the cameras, which he didn’t in the past, even in election meetings. (Gupta, 2015: 20–1)

However, a woman Lok Sabha MP stressed that the content of a speech was just as important as the style of oration: There are two aspects of being a parliamentarian. What you say, your content has to be good, and oration has to be good. But I think it’s unfair to only judge a parliamentarian by their oration skills. I’ve heard many speeches which may not necessarily [have been] great orations, but the substance was very important, the content was very important. (MP10, 14 May 2015)

Sexism in the Chamber

Like their counterparts in other countries, women MPs in the Indian Parliament have to contend with an occasionally uncomfortable to an outright hostile institutional environment. Sexism in the chamber is a form of internal exclusion and can affect women’s participation in debates. On the most visible stage of Parliament, tolerance, and even appreciation, of sexist remarks in the chamber reminds women MPs (and the public) that they are ‘space invaders’ (Puwar, 2004) and sets parameters for the kinds of issues they feel they can raise and the norms governing debates in the chamber.13 In a debate on International 13

Former Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard’s in-chamber rebuttal to then Opposition Leader Tony Abbott, in which she said ‘I will not be lectured

184

Performing Representation

Women’s Day in 1999, one woman MP said she felt like ‘an unwanted intruder in a male club’ (LS Debates 1999; cf. Balasubramaniam, 2013). When a male MP protested and asked that her words be stricken as unparliamentary, she apologized but remained adamant that that was how she felt. Sexism is performed not just aggressively; some well-meaning attempts by presiding officers to encourage specifically women to participate in debates can come across as a form of benevolent sexism or patronage, undermining the competence of women MPs to intervene in a debate without ‘assistance’. As one Rajya Sabha woman MP explained, ‘discrimination is not visible but we are experiencing it in many ways … Whenever we stand the Chairman says “oh, sister, woman, lady MPs is standing, give her a chance”. What kind of patronage is [that]?! That doesn’t help us’ (MP37, 7 May 2015). This happened during the 2005 Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act debates when a presiding officer suggested to one female MP: ‘You can come to the front if you find difficulty in speaking from there … All women Members who speak on this Bill can come to the front and speak; their speeches will be recorded from the front seats’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 483). Many female MPs formally expressed gratitude for this special treatment, but few took up the invitation despite repeated insistence from the chair. Perhaps they were uncomfortable with what this special treatment implied about their ability to participate in proceedings or uncomfortable about occupying the seats of more senior colleagues. Such patronizing manner of the chair places women MPs in an awkward position, calling attention to their identity as women to get an opportunity to participate in debates. Seeking and providing clear opportunities for women MPs to participate without suggesting they are less capable and thus need special treatment is a fine balance. A Lok Sabha woman MP singled out Speaker Chatterjee as a very sensitized speaker and ‘outstanding in his support for gender issues’ (MP9, 3 August 2009). Another former Lok Sabha woman MP thought that the election of Meira Kumar as speaker in 2009 would encourage women to participate in debates (MP29, 27 July 2009).

about sexism and misogyny by this man, I will not’ was circulated in media around the world and became known as ‘The Misogyny Speech’. See The Sydney Morning Herald (2012) for a full transcript of her speech and Rourke (2012) for a discussion. See also Sones, Moran, and Lovenduski (2005) for an account of sexism in Westminster debates.

Women Members of Parliament

185

At the same time, women MPs may, often justifiably, appeal to the chair for an opportunity to speak or to be granted extra time, citing the lack of women participants. In the 2008 Motion of Confidence debate, for example, Ranjeet Ranjan MP (Lok Janshakti Party [LJP], Bihar), reminded the speaker just how few women had spoken in the debate. She asked members to listen to her and give her respect as a woman (LS Debates, 2008: cols 221–4). One Rajya Sabha woman MP suggested that the lack of women among senior parliamentary party leaders meant fewer opportunities given to women MPs, including more junior MPs, to speak in debates as well as less time allocated to gender-responsive topics in the legislative agenda. She pointed out that if it was not for Kanimozhi (senior DMK MP and daughter of party leader Karunanidhi), a south Indian woman MP, there would be no women in the Business Advisory Committee for that House (a committee which negotiates time and topics on the legislative agenda). She also thought topics raised by senior leaders were more likely to be admitted for discussion: When we give a notice on women’s issues they rarely [admit those] … I’m 100% sure that the farmers’ issues are very important, drought, rain, all things are very important. But these topics or these notices are given by senior leaders of … JD or BJP … or Congress. Then it will be admitted because they will give great pressure from these leaders. But when we give a notice that we are interested in climate change, or women issues, or children issues, or fishermen issues, tribal issues, very rarely it got admitted. (MP37, 7 May 2015)

Women MPs have also complained that men do not participate enough in debates on topics conventionally considered ‘women’s issues’. For example, Kiran Maheswari admonished the lack of participation from men in the 2005 Protection of Women from Domestic Violence debates (LS Debates 2005b, 24 August: col. 486; discussed further later). Women MPs participating in the 1996 resolution to establish the Women’s Empowerment Committee made the same kinds of complaints (see Chapter 6). Similarly, for some observers, the parliamentary debate in 2013 on the Criminal Law Amendment related to sexual violence was very limited in its discussion of marital rape. As the epigraph to this chapter showed, Supriya Sule admonished the participants in the debate for talking too much about men’s rights and the potential misuse of the law and less about women’s security against violence. Senior advocate Rebecca John found the debate ‘flawed with no discussion on the need and requirement for … inclusion [of sexual violence] as an offence but … much discussion on the potential for its misuse’ (John, 2015: 61).

186

Performing Representation

She concluded that ‘it is a moment of conflict between the increasingly assertive Indian woman and a society that is unwilling to change’ (John, 2015: 61). More challenging are direct forms of institutional sexism. Some Indian politicians have publicly made sexist comments on sexual violence, and these have become so well known in public discourse that media sites occasionally produced compilations (Outlook, 2012; Indian Express, 2015b). MPs have also made sexist comments in the chamber. During the 2015 Budget session of the Rajya Sabha, on a seemingly unrelated debate on foreign direct investment in the insurance sector, a senior leader of the JD(U) party, Sharad Yadav, made a reference to ‘dark’ (saanvli) south Indian women’s bodies and their dancing skills. South Indian woman MP Kanimozhi rose to her feet to object to Yadav’s comments (Ghosh, 2015; Times of India, 2015a). Yadav refused to apologize. While some male MPs could be heard laughing, others, including the presiding officer, tried to get him to re-focus his discussion on the bill or conclude.14 The following Monday, Minister Ravi Shankar Prasad, who had been invoked by Sharad Yadav in his earlier speech as a dark-skinned south Indian, disassociated with Sharad Yadav’s comments and asked him to withdraw them. Female Rajya Sabha MP Smriti Irani appealed to Sharad Yadav to refrain from making comments about the skin colour of any women’s bodies in future. Sharad Yadav MP again refused and reportedly responded with the comment, ‘We know about you’ (Indian Express, 2015a; Times of India, 2015b). Yadav’s response to Irani was seen as derogatory, and according to one interpretation, an aspersion to Irani’s former career as a television actress.15 Similarly, in 2012 a UPA government minister made a remark towards actress-turned-MP Jaya Bachchan when she tried to interrupt his speech on violence in Assam. He rejected her intervention, reportedly saying, ‘This is a serious matter. This is not the subject of a film’ (Times of India, 2012c). Some observers found this patronizing; connecting the 2015 and 2012 events, a woman 14

Unofficial clips of the Rajya Sabha debate and the response the following day can be found at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BI10x3APRoQ, 12 March 2015; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xg93nP9fehg, 16 March 2015, last accessed on 23 October 2017. 15 Sharad Yadav reportedly apologized a few days later after Finance Minister Arun Jaitley suggested that a wrong impression had been created (New Indian Express, 2015). Yadav had tried to explain that his comments had been a criticism of the Indian obsession with fair skin.

Women Members of Parliament

187

MP from the Rajya Sabha, lamented that ‘[these] men are not at all bothered that we are sitting near to them’ (MP37, 7 May 2015). So, although parties bank on the cache and publicity that current or former actresses bring as election candidates if it contributes to electoral success, they do not discipline their male members’ sexism (see also Chapter 3). The ‘decline of parliament’ discourse suggests that overt sexism is recent; for example, Professor Malini Bhattacharya, former left MP from West Bengal, suggests that such overt sexism in the chamber is a recent development compared to when she sat in Parliament from 1989 throughout the 1990s: By comparison, I can certainly say that some of the public statements on gender issues recently made by parliamentarians would have been unimaginable 20 years earlier; I think we are going through a period of severe conservative backlash which strangely enough the neo-liberal regime tolerates in spite of its professions of modernity and development. Earlier a certain modicum of old-world courtesy towards the ‘weaker sex’ was there although on women’s issues every inch had to be fought both within and outside Parliament. Of course, some male MPs even outside Left parties were extremely supportive, as on the NCW Bill. The then Prime Minister himself proved to be sensitive. (Written correspondence with former MP Malini Bhattacharya, 6 June 2015)

However, it might be that the performance of sexism and its reception in the media is now taking different forms. Sexism is also seen in the chamber as keeping women out of politics; when the Rajya Sabha passed the WRB in 2010, Mulayam Singh Yadav (Samajwadi Party) reportedly commented that he was worried that Parliament would become filled with the ‘kind of women … wives and daughters of officers and businessmen, who invite whistles from boys’ (Hindustan Times, 2010; Indian Express, 2010). This drew noticeable parallels with a pre-Independence debate in 1926 in the Central Legislative Assembly, where one member disapproved of a resolution to elect women to the institution, justifying this on the idea that at some point in the future, women may have to sit alongside ‘objectionable characters’: The qualifications for membership of the House are so low that any ignorant rustic can be elected to this House and by opening the doors of the Legislative Assembly to women you invite the objectionable characters of society to invade the Assembly and capture as many seats as they can. Now, Sir, would you like your ladies to sit on the same Bench with an objectionable character if he were a member of this House! (CLA, 1926: 636)

188

Performing Representation

While one member’s view is hardly representative, the issue of sexism in legislative institutions is a long-standing one and puts women off from entering politics. ‘Women’s Work’? Ascriptive Identity, Debate Topics, and Participation

The international comparative literature on women’s participation in parliamentary debates has often been concerned with substantive representation—women acting in the interest of women, women representing women. It is also concerned with investigating cases where this succeeds and fails and understanding which factors enable success and failure, to better inform and equip transformative strategies for improving the representation of women’s interests (Tremblay, 1998; Mackay, 2008). Studies have also questioned the assumption that women will always represent women, and the assumed homogeneity and pre-formed fixity of ‘women’s interests’ (Pringle and Watson, 1992; Childs and Krook, 2009; Celis and Childs, 2012). But, as we have been arguing, newly elected representatives from under-represented and marginalized groups may enter legislative institutions on an unequal footing as ‘space invaders’, aberrations from the somatic norm of privileged elites in legislatures (Puwar, 2004). This unequal status may shape the possible representative claims they can make and the opportunities for doing so. In parliaments political parties often derogate women members’ ascriptive identities and then presume that they will have a greater symbolic authority and legitimacy for performing representative claims on the basis of such performance of identity. ‘Speaking rights’ for debates are then often conferred on members based on such identities; this is referred to by Puwar as ‘the burden of representation’ and by Hawkesworth as the ‘hypervisibility’ of marginalized groups within legislative institutions (Hawkesworth, 2003; Puwar, 2004). The same dynamic, we argue, is evident in the Indian Parliament in relation to the participation of women MPs in the work of debating legislation. Geraldine Forbes reminds us that by the 1930s, the dominant ideology among the leadership of the women’s movement was to justify women’s participation in electoral politics in India by foregrounding gender difference—women’s special interest, knowledge, and skills (Forbes, 2005: 75). Women’s role in politics was to bring their specifically feminine virtues to the public political domain to ‘humanize/feminize’ it (Forbes, 2005: 76). As in other countries, Indian women

Women Members of Parliament

189

MPs are deemed to have both special knowledge about what it is ‘to be a woman’ and special interests in representing women. This means that they are favoured by party leaders and by presiding officers as speakers in debates on what are deemed as ‘women’s issues’. Puwar (2004) suggests that ‘specialists’ face ‘super-surveillance’, or even greater scrutiny because of their ascriptive identity. While they may be deemed experts, what they say is taken as even more authentic and, therefore, is even more closely scrutinized. The consequence is that when performing representation as linked to ascriptive identities, representatives might self-regulate their behaviour and be more selective about involving themselves in issues which are seen as linked to their ascriptive identity. A key question is whether this creates, sustains, and compounds a gendered division of labour in which the involvement of male MPs in such legislative debates and issues remains limited. We first explore the presence of women in our selected debates, and then examine representative claims in more detail. Our analysis of debates suggests that this approach still shapes women’s participation in debates, determining the topics on which they are seen to be legitimate representatives, whether this is voluntary or delegated representative labour, even if it is now joined by rationales based on rights and justice perspectives. Women MPs have been prominent participants in debates on explicitly women-related legislation, such as the protection of Women from Domestic Violence debates in 2005 (see Table 5.6). Women MPs, who constituted only 8 per cent of MPs in the Lok Sabha at that time, were disproportionately present in these debates. In total, 38 MPs participated over two days of debate in the Lok Sabha, including 16 women and 22 men; only some of those participating actually made formal speeches. Women MPs made lengthy speeches in the debates right from the start, being the first spokesperson from their party rather than being relegated further on in the debate as the second or third speaker. For example, Kanti Singh, minister of state for human resource development (HRD), introduced the bill and spoke at length about its rationale and later made a closing statement before the bill was passed. Long-serving MP Sumitra Mahajan (BJP)16 was the first to speak from the opposition, her speech lasting more than half an hour on the first day of debate (and accounted 16

With the exception of then Speaker Somnath Chatterjee, she was also the most experienced Lok Sabha MP in the debate, with five parliamentary terms in the Lok Sabha and a presiding officer role in the Lok Sabha (in 2014 she went on to become speaker).

190

Performing Representation

Table 5.6 Debates

Participation of Women and Men in Selected Parliamentary

Selected Debates

House Date(s) and No. of Hours of Debate

NREGA

Lok Sabha

Domestic Violence

Men

Women

No.

%

No.

%

21 December 2004 (introduced); 18/22/23 August 2005 (debated) (13 hrs 20 mins)

76

95%

4

5%

Rajya Sabha

24 August 2005 (6 hrs)

39 (22 speeches)

89% (92%)

5 (2 speeches)

11% (8%)

Lok Sabha

23/24 August 2005

8

33%

16

67%

Rajya Sabha

29 August 2005 (interrupted)

*

–

*

–

56

86%

9

14%

Motion of Lok Confidence Sabha

21/22 July 2008

Source: LS Debates (2005a, 2005b, 2008) and RS Debates (2005a, 2005b) for selected debates. Note: *After the bill was first passed in the Lok Sabha, the Rajya Sabha debate was repeatedly interrupted and the bill had to be passed without discussion. But the names called upon by the presiding officer, those participating, and those included in the official transcript included mostly women: Kanti Singh (moving the bill), Mohsina Kidwai, Maya Singh, Vanga Geetha, Pramila Bohidar, Jaya Bachchan, and Brinda Karat, but also R. S. Gavai (male MP).

for 10 per cent of the overall time taken over the two days of debate). Despite being from the opposition, she spoke at length in support of the bill, drawing on her close connection to the bill as the minister for women and child development under the previous NDA government, when she was involved in the previous draft bill in 2002. On the contrary, men primarily played two roles in the 2005 Lok Sabha debates on the domestic violence bill—as regulators and opposition. They participated in the debates as presiding officers, as a minister for parliamentary affairs, and also made minor interruptions and comments rather than formal speeches. Though 22 male MPs participated,

Women Members of Parliament

191

only 8 made speeches,17 including 1 who laid his speech on the table of the house. Shailendra Kumar (Samajwadi Party) represented the major (conservative) voice of opposition to the bill, arguing that the legislation was alien to Indian culture, that it would have a deleterious effect on families, and that it would be subject to misuse, echoing the concern of some radical men’s rights groups. More broadly, speeches by male MPs included both oppositional and supportive positions, including some pro-feminist support, especially by left and centrist parties. Some male MPs interrupted, affirming or contesting MPs’ speeches, or disrupted the debate either after unsuccessful pleas to the presiding officer to speak or by raising ostensibly unrelated procedural issues. Where legislation is more encompassing, it can be harder to demonstrate legitimacy to speak in debates on the basis of ascriptive identity, particularly for high-profile legislation which increases competition for speaking rights. The 2005 debates on NREGA are a good example of this. The consultation and passage of the NREGA legislation was seen as a case of Parliament working well, especially in terms of civil society consultation (Chopra, 2011).18 The committee19 phase involved successful legislative advocacy by women’s movement activists, including three elements designed specifically to benefit women: a gender quota in allocation of work, equal wages for men and women, and childcare 17

MPs S. Kumar, Mehta, Yadav, Chandrappan, Rajagopal, Gudhe, Senthil, and V. Kumar. 18 The 2005 debates on NREGA (LS Debates, 2005a) took place as follows: The National Employment Guarantee Bill was introduced in the Lok Sabha on 21 December 2004 towards the end of the Winter Session. It was referred immediately to the parliamentary Standing Committee on Rural Development. The bill was then reintroduced in the Monsoon Session of the following year for a second reading on 18th August 2005. It was debated on 18 August and again on 22 and 23 August, before being passed in the Lok Sabha. It was then introduced the same day in the Rajya Sabha, debated the following day (24 August), and passed after a debate of almost six and a half hours. The Act was ratified by the president on 5 September 2005 and notified in The Gazette of India two days later. 19 The bill was referred to the Standing Committee for Rural Development, chaired by Kalyan Singh. Very few women MPs were members of the Rural Development standing committee at the time—only 3 of 29 members in the committee in total (both houses combined), including only 1 from the Lok Sabha; 2 of those 3 women committee members spoke in the debates.

192

Performing Representation

provisions. Of the 24 organizations and individuals invited to depose before the committee 6 were from women’s movement organizations or academic organizations focusing on women and gender issues, and a further 2 were prominent feminist scholars and activists.20 However, the chamber debates were not a great example of participation and inclusion of women MPs.21 In the Lok Sabha, notwithstanding Sonia Gandhi’s prominent speech as chairperson of the governing UPA coalition, only three other women MPs spoke out of a total of 80 MPs giving speeches in the Lok Sabha debate.22 So, in a debate lasting more than 13 hours, only four women MPs spoke. After Gandhi’s speech, the second woman MP to speak had to wait until the second day and was the 34th person to speak that day.23 Two other women MPs followed as the 47th and 62nd speakers.24 All four women MPs were from the two largest parties in the Lok Sabha: BJP (21 MPs spoke) and Congress (18 MPs spoke). The visibility of women MPs in the NREGA debate was only slightly better in the Rajya Sabha debates, which had fewer speakers overall. While debate records showed five women MPs participated, technically only three made speeches while two made interjections. Brinda Karat, in her role as a senior AIDWA activist, made a telling intervention in the speech of the minister introducing the bill (Raghuvansh Prasad Singh), reminding him to mention the provisions for women in the bill: Aapne mahilaon ki baat ko chhod diyaa hain (‘You left out the part about women’) (RS Debates, 2005a: 241). Not surprisingly, given

20

These are All India Democratic Women’s Association (AIDWA), NFIW, Centre for Women’s Development Studies, Professor Jayati Ghosh and Annie Raja from NFIW/People’s Action for Employment Guarantee. 21 We rely here on the official Hindi and English versions of the Lok Sabha debates, the official Rajya Sabha debate, as well as an unofficial full English translation of Hindi portions of the official Rajya Sabha debate (our thanks to Sunita Abraham for providing this translation). 22 This does not include any that intervened in the debate, but does include those who laid their speeches on the table. 23 This was Tejaswini Seeramesh (Congress), also a member of the Standing Committee on Rural Development. 24 These were Neeta Pateriya (BJP; 47th speaker on day two), and Jayaben B. Thakkar (BJP; member of the CEW, 62nd person to speak on day two). Junior Rural Development Minister Suryakanta Patil only intervened at the start of the debate to inform the speaker that the minister was on his way into the chamber, but she did not make a speech in the debate.

Women Members of Parliament

193

the low number of women MPs speaking in the Rajya Sabha debates it was a senior male Congress MP, Jairam Ramesh, who referred to women most frequently.25 In the Lok Sabha debates, women’s empowerment was not a prominent theme: only five references were made specifically to women’s empowerment (other references applied to empowering panchayats to implement and monitor the Act, as well as the general economic empowerment potential of the Act). The terms ‘empower’ and ‘empowerment’ did not appear in English language speeches in the Rajya Sabha debates and only did so five times in Hindi, relating to empowering panchayats or economic empowerment of all rather than specifically of women (RS Debates, 2005a: 297). Members who did mention empowerment had mixed feelings about whether women would be empowered by this Act. Some MPs hailed the potential of the legislation to include women and thus empower them economically and in other ways: ‘The generated employment would also be a major source of employment for women because … reservation has been provided for them. Certainly, they will get respectability in the family’, said one MP (Shri R. K. Dhawan [Bihar], RS Debates, 2005a: 254). One woman MP, Tejaswini Seeramesh, thought that NREGA would address the serious problem of income insecurity for young mothers and in turn prevent trafficking of children: Indiraji dreamt to empower the women. We cannot empower women through speeches alone. We must ensure one-third reservation for them in the jobs under this scheme. Then only we can have this empowerment of women where a mother will not face a situation wherein she sells her dear babies. (LS Debates, 2005a, 22 August: col. 655)

But other MPs, men and women, highlighted contested definitions of the ‘household’ and the ‘family’, something which had been a contentious issue prior to the chamber debates on the bill. The potential for intra-household ‘cooperative conflicts’ came up repeatedly (Sen, 1987; see also Agarwal, 1997),26 which MPs thought limited the potential 25

In the Lok Sabha NREGA debates in August 2005, the word ‘women’ appeared 20 times in English and 60 times in Hindi (which was, unsurprisingly, the more popular language of the debate). In the Rajya Sabha debates, references to ‘women’ were made 18 times in English; in Hindi, 15 references were made to ‘women’. 26 This concept from feminist economics recommends that in order to better understand intra-household gender disadvantage in distribution of resources

194

Performing Representation

of the bill. Kalyan Singh (chair of the committee) commented: ‘One person from each family will be provided employment. As a result large families will be in a disadvantageous position. In India we have a tradition of joint family but such families will be at disadvantage’ (LS Debates, 2005a, 18 August: col. 350). He questioned [W]hether any women will get employment under this scheme? The issue of selecting a person from a family to get employment will create bickering in the family … [W]ill that member of the family necessarily expend the moneys [sic] earned by him on the members of entire family? In such situation no person will choose any women to get employment. Similarly, a handicapped member of a family will not get employment. Then how it is a historic Bill? … There will be disintegration and bickering in the family. There will be no peace in the family. (LS Debates, 2005a, 18 August: col. 351–2)27

One woman MP shared the same sentiment regarding competition between male and female members of the household and the latter’s subjugation, stating: ‘Although it has been said that women would also be provided employment but remains to be seen how much of a chance they are likely to be given while their male counterparts remain unemployed. This is a disadvantage that women face in all walks of life’ (Jayaben B. Thakkar, LS Debates, 2005a, 22 August: col. 715). Some MPs rejected the idea of childcare provisions and maternity pay, thereby devaluing care labour under the broader suspicion of ‘relaxation of work norms’, with one male MP commenting ‘[i]f there were five women, one woman among them would be a babysitter. So, out of five women, only four women would work’ (Kharabela Swain, [former] BJP MP for Balasore, Odisha, LS Debates, 2005a, 22 August: col. 597, emphasis added).

and decision-making, economists should not see the household as a unified entity which maximizes the individual and collective utility of all its members, but as involving elements of cooperation and conflict resolved through bargaining wherein some household members may lose out to others depending on their relative bargaining power (see Agarwal, 1997: 4). 27 A BJP party colleague out of camera-shot on the debate recording appears to suggest that the gender quota provision has been incorporated, and Kalyan Singh acknowledges this, but reiterates the point, as part of a narrative re-enactment of the committee stages of the bill.

Women Members of Parliament

195

Some MPs acknowledged intersectional differences among women, reflecting concerns raised in the committee stage;28 rural women faced stronger hardships and disadvantage as did other marginalized groups of women, as one woman MP stated: ‘I would like a specific provision to be made for prevailing employment to abandoned, deserted/divorced women who have no one to look after them’ (Jayaben Thakkar MP, LS Debates, 2005a, 22 August: col. 715). Another woman MP pointed out that illiterate rural women would be vulnerable to extortion if payments were extracted from them in exchange for helping them file their application for work, stating ‘If the women of rural areas have to give an application then they will have to spend money. The employment guarantee, therefore, is an illusion for rural women’ (Neeta Pateriya, LS Debates, 2005a, 22 August: col. 682). Women MPs’ low participation in the NREGA debates in the Lok Sabha as well as Rajya Sabha shows how despite the more inclusive gender provisions of the Act, the lack of an obvious ascriptive link of the legislation, the high profile of the debate, and the all-encompassing character of the legislation can squeeze out opportunities for women MPs to participate on the basis of ascriptive identity. This dynamic becomes even starker when we turn to other high-profile and wide-ranging debates. One of the largest plenary debates in Parliament is the Motion of Thanks on the President’s Address. This is a broad commentary on the government’s forthcoming legislative and policy agenda and performance over the last year and usually takes place over a number of days, enabling a large number of MPs to participate, though occasionally it is disrupted or boycotted. Looking at the participation of women MPs in this debate in recent years we can see that it is largely inconsistent in its inclusion of women MPs, but notably in some years only a handful of women 28

The committee report noted that experts who deposed before the committee thought that not only had ‘specific provisions for women … been conspicuous by their absence’ but that some provisions were actually ‘discriminatory to women’ (Lok Sabha, 2005c: 45). These included marginalization of ‘deserted, separated or divorced women’ as a result of the definition of the family in the bill, limitations in the type of works in which women would be able to participate, and also how pregnant women may suffer unnecessarily harshly or disproportionately as a result of non-payment of unemployment allowance due to absence from work. The committee recommended payment of full wages to pregnant women ‘in line with maternity leave’ (Lok Sabha 2005).

196

Performing Representation

participate. In 2005 the Lok Sabha records show that no women from among 47 MPs participated in the Motion of Thanks. In 2006, the first woman to speak did not appear until the third day of the debate, and was among 4 women alongside 60 men in the debate. In 2011, only 1 woman MP, Supriya Sule, leader of the NCP, made a speech alongside 70 male MPs speaking in the debate, linking the absence of women speaking to the urgent need for the WRB. One strategy that has ensured at least some presence for women MPs in these debates is for a woman MP to either move the motion or second it. This ensures that they get to speak in the debate and early on. This happened in 2009, 2012, and 2013 (Girija Vyas), 2010 (Meenakshi Natarajan), and 2008 (Krishna Tirath). Most recently in 2016 both mover and seconder were women MPs, one from the ruling party (BJP) and one from a ruling coalition party (SAD). However, in most cases discussed here, the number of women in the debate rarely reaches their proportion in the house, which in itself is not equitable. Debates in 2016 and 2013 were notable exceptions, and perhaps the latter was prompted by the upsurge in activity after the Delhi gang rape in December 2012—nearly all women MPs speaking made reference to sexual violence and women’s security in their speeches. The 2008 Lok Sabha confidence motion debate, prompted by a coalition disagreement over the Indo-US nuclear energy agreement, was an even more high-profile debate as it concerned the survival of the government.29 Speaker Somnath Chatterjee began the first day with a reminder to MPs of the hypervisibility of the debate, that the country would be watching, and stressed that members should be mindful of their behaviour: ‘Please have the discussion in a manner, which adds to the dignity of the Parliament … The Nation is looking up to us. Therefore, please cooperate’ (Speaker Chatterjee, in LS Debates, 2008). However, the debate became a low point for Parliament; Speaker Chatterjee’s worst fears materialized in the unfolding of the debate, as he recounts in his memoirs: While the debate was on, three members of the BJP … suddenly entered the well of the House around 4pm, waving several bundles of currency 29

The Motion of Confidence was brought by the government after it suffered a withdrawal of support by the left parties because of a disagreement over the government’s proposed civil nuclear energy agreement with the US. The government called a special two-day session of Parliament in July 2008, culminating in the vote. A defeat for the government on the motion would have meant the fall of the government and early elections, otherwise due in 2009.

Women Members of Parliament

197

notes and slapped them on the table in front of the Speaker. They shouted loudly and repeatedly that they had been bribed to vote in favour of the motion. As the proceedings of the House were being telecast live, this shameful incident was seen the world over. (Chatterjee, 2010: 1999)30

This spectacle aside, few have pointed to the lack of women’s participation in the debate. Only two women MPs gave speeches during the two days of debate, and another seven women MPs laid speeches on the table, all on the second day of the debate. The first day understandably included speeches from 17 senior party leaders (Congress and BJP each had three speakers). However, these speeches were all by men. Mamata Banerjee and Mayawati, two prominent women party leaders, stayed away from proceedings, though Mayawati’s contribution to the predebate negotiations was tangible.31 Sonia Gandhi too had been influential behind the scenes but she did not speak, though several MPs referred to her leadership as UPA chairperson.32 Thus, party leaders dominated 30

Speaker Chatterjee judged it as ‘by far the worst incident ever in the history of the Lok Sabha’ (Chatterjee, 2010: 1999). A prominent scholar of Indian politics referred to the incident as an ‘unprecedented spectacle in parliamentary history’ (Hasan, 2012: 211). A historian and political essayist described the confidence motion debate as ‘epic theatre’ (Kesavan, 2008). 31 Mamata Banerjee, then the only member of her party in the Lok Sabha, declared in advance of the July 2008 debate that she would abstain from voting and not attend. Banerjee openly stated her opposition to the deal but would abstain in order to ‘maintain equidistance’ from either BJP, Congress, or CPI(M), the latter being her key political rival in West Bengal (The Hindu, 2008a). In other words, she did not want her vote to benefit her political opponents on either side. Mayawati was absent from the proceedings, but had been one of the key players in the lead-up to the confidence motion, active behind the scenes, openly positioning herself as an opponent of the nuclear deal, and with the support of the left emerging as a potential leader of a Third Front with a view to national elections the following year (Bose, 2012: 200–2). A headline in The Hindu sensationally stated, ‘It is all about Mayawati phenomenon’, observing that ‘the Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister was not present in Parliament, yet all conversation revolved round her’ (Vyas and Subrahmaniam, 2008). A political biographer of Mayawati notes that ‘despite the UPA’s victory in the trust vote, it was Mayawati who emerged as the only real political beneficiary of the appalling drama’ but also acknowledged this prominence was short-lived, due to personal and external factors. 32 Prime Minister Manmohan Singh played a central role as head of the executive and because the Indo-US nuclear deal had been associated with him personally (discussed later in the chapter). Sonia Gandhi was influential in

198

Performing Representation

the earlier stages of the debate and often spoke out the time allotted to their party. On the first day, Speaker Chatterjee regularly reminded party leaders that time was scarce, their party had limited time allocated, or that they had already exhausted their party’s time, preventing other MPs, including women, from speaking in the debate.33 It is remarkable how the debate almost included no women at all. When the speaker adjourned the debate at 6 p.m. on the second day for a short break, he suggested the prime minister reply to the debate on return. Up until then, no women MPs had made or laid their speeches. When the speaker reconvened at 6.30 p.m., he said that smaller parties had asked for a few minutes to participate. After Asaduddin Owaisi, some women MPs were finally able to make their contributions. Mehbooba Mufti (from Jammu & Kashmir’s People’s Democratic Party [PDP]) was the first woman to give a speech, but was forced to lay part of her speech on the table due to lack of time (LS Debates, 2008, cols. 100–3). Towards the end of the debate, Ranjeet Ranjan (LJSP, Bihar) made a speech and reminded the speaker that very few women had spoken in the debate (LS Debates, 2008, cols. 221–4). Several women MPs laid their speeches on the table, the majority of which were from BJP.34

bringing the Congress leadership on board once she herself had been convinced of the merits of the deal and of Singh’s profound commitment to it (Pant, 2011: 69). 33 See the exchange between the speaker and Mohammed Salim (CPI[M]), third to speak in the debate and first from his party. He was told after several reminders by the speaker: ‘I am sorry, your Party’s time is almost over; it is for you to decide because you have got other speakers also’ (LS Debates, 2008, 21 July: col. 57). MPs from both coalitions tried, unsuccessfully, to claim time allotted to their coalition rather than just their party. However, some MPs were indulged by the speaker when they ran over their time, especially if delayed by repeated interruptions. 34 Maneka Gandhi (BJP, Uttar Pradesh) was asked if she was speaking; no response was recorded in the official debate transcript but the speaker indicated that members could lay their speeches on the table, as she later did (LS Debates, 2008: cols.162–9). The women MPs who did not speak but laid their speeches on the table were Jhansi Lakshmi Botcha (INC, Andhra Pradesh), Kiran Maheswari (BJP, Rajasthan), Maneka Gandhi (BJP, Uttar Pradesh), Neeta Pateriya (BJP, Madhya Pradesh), Sangeeta Kumari Singh Deo (BJP, Odisha), Karuna Shukla (BJP, Chhattisgarh), and Rubab Sayeda (SP, Uttar Pradesh). Several more junior male MPs (26) also laid the whole or part

Women Members of Parliament

199

Several women MPs participated in the debate but in indirect, less official, or more disruptive ways, intervening and sometimes protesting. For example, Yashodhara Raje Scindia reportedly protested an MP’s remarks alleging the links of illegal mining to the Rajasthan state government, then led by her sister, Chief Minister Vasundhara Raje Scindia, though only Kiran Maheswari, a BJP MP from Rajasthan, is officially recorded as protesting against the allegations (The Hindu, 2008c; Lok Sabha, 2008: col. 95, 99–100; The Tribune, 2008b).35 But the most notable disruption, other than the display of money on the table of the house, was led by Kiran Maheswari interrupting the prime minister’s reply to the debate.36 Manmohan Singh could not finish his reply and ultimately had to lay part of his speech on the table. Speaker Somnath Chatterjee recorded in his memoirs that he thought it ‘a matter of the greatest shame’ that the prime minister was not allowed to speak (Chatterjee, 2010: 173). Thus, although seniority norms and competition for speaking rights can deny women the opportunities to speak in Parliament, it does not mean that they do not use informal modes of communication to intervene in the proceedings; they employ other means to perform representation and make their presence felt in the debate, particularly as loyal party members. The strong masculinist overtones of the debate, discussed further later, also contribute to the low participation rates of women in parliamentary debates.

of their speeches on the table due to disruptions or time constraints so this was not limited to women MPs. However, it does give a sense of the number of MPs who were prepared to speak and the diminished opportunities available to women MPs. 35 On the first day, Renuka Chowdhury intervened against an assumed breach of privilege (but did not make a speech), Karuna Shukla intervened in Rahul Gandhi’s speech asking him to speak in Hindi (Lok Sabha, 22 July 2008: col. 42), and Mehbooba Mufti, who did speak, protested remarks made by another MP about a Hindu pilgrimage site in her state of Jammu & Kashmir. Krishna Tirath also briefly intervened to contest allegations made by BSP leader Brajesh Pathak that he was threatened by a government official to vote in favour of the government or his party leader, Mayawati, would face arrest (Lok Sabha, 22 July 2008: col. 50). 36 She was recorded as leading a group of MPs protesting near the table of the house when the prime minister was delivering his reply to the debate (Lok Sabha 2008, 22 July 2008: col. 226).

200

Performing Representation

Performing Authenticity

As discussed in the previous chapter, our analysis of the 2005 domestic violence debates suggests that several women MPs self-identified as women, and claimed to be speaking as women, declaring a special interest in domestic violence and special empathy in representing women. Sumitra Mahajan also suggested that the minister introducing the bill ‘being a woman minister’, should give ‘a fair deal’ to girls as domestic workers under the legislation (LS Debates, 2005b, 23 August: col. 415). In turn, male MPs, including presiding officers, recognized this ‘special knowledge’ and deferred to them. When the presiding officer tried to extend the time of the house on the first day by one hour until 7 p.m., two women MPs (Maheswari and Mahajan) suggested it would be better to continue the debate the following day because ‘many of the Women Members want to express their views on this issue’ (Maheswari in LS Debates, 2005b: col. 412); later in her speech Mahajan acknowledged that ‘remaining women colleagues, too, may like to speak’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 414). This may have been an expression of collegiality and cross-party solidarity among women MPs, but also suggests a representative claim on grounds of gender by and in the interests of women MPs. Some male MPs similarly position women MPs as representatives of women, and also attempt to influence what women MPs should talk about. In the 2005 domestic violence debates, a male parliamentary party leader expressed support for Sumitra Mahajan’s points and requested his speaking time be transferred to her so she could speak for longer. A male MP from Gujarat requested a woman MP from Madhya Pradesh to represent the condition of women in Gujarat saying, ‘the condition of women is very bad in Gujarat. Please speak about that also’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 511). She refused his request saying that she was ‘projecting the condition of women all over the country’ and ‘not making a speech of a particular region’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 511). The male MP then interrupted her speech repeatedly—the printed debates suggest that the male MP was protesting her focus on women in Delhi—and was reprimanded by the presiding officer. Other male MPs also took exception to the way in which some women MPs were representing their constituents or a particular state government administration. One complained that a woman MP’s remarks about atrocities against girls in Rajasthan were wrong and should be expunged (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 503). We have already commented on how presiding officers also privilege the contributions of women MPs where they can see an ascriptive

Women Members of Parliament

201

identity link with the topic of debate. In the domestic violence debates presiding officer and Kerala MP Varkala Radhakrishnan (CPI[M]) stated several times that he would not operate a time limit for speeches made by female MPs, directly linking the participation of women to authenticity of representation and the legitimacy of the legislation on the basis of their shared ascriptive identity: ‘There will be no time restriction for lady Members because the Bill is passed on their words. It must be on record that the Bill was passed on the words of our Hon. Lady Members’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 489). The presiding officer also privileged women MPs towards the end of the two-day debate, after refusing a number of male MPs’ requests to speak. He had declared that the time for debate had expired, but subsequently granted, amid protests, a female MP’s (Singh Deo) request to speak after the minister had replied to the debate. Countering protests and interruptions, Singh Deo pleaded with the interrupting male MP (Athawale), stating, ‘Allow me to make submission today. You speak daily’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 544). When asked to conclude by the presiding officer, she responded by asking for another minute, stating, ‘You know we hardly get a chance to speak’ (LS Debates, 2005b: col. 545). Debates that are not explicitly gendered by referring to ‘women’ or ‘women’s issues’ can still be implicitly gendered. It is well established in both India and other international contexts that policy domains take on gendered connotations—finance, defence, energy, and foreign policy are seen as masculine and health and social care are seen as primarily feminine domains. Nuclear policy, in particular, in the late 1990s under the BJP, was associated with a militarized masculinized form of nationhood and national ‘virility’ (Sangari et al., 2001: 48, cited in Cohn and Jacobsen, 2013; see Deo, 2016: 132; see Corbridge, 1999). Only two women have ever held the post of minister of external affairs—former Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and, more recently, senior BJP politician Sushma Swaraj. The absence of women MPs who speak in the debates on specific policy issues can also reflect that a particular kind of masculinist politics dominates these arenas.37 For example, according to media narratives, 37

Chacko (2011) relates nuclear policy to a binary tension in which Indian nationalism is simultaneously gendered feminine and masculine: feminine by virtue of a postcolonial identity of Gandhian resistance to the West and a sense of moral superiority, and masculine in its mimicry of the Western state and its ‘modern’ focus on science, technology, and rationality. In relation to nuclear

202

Performing Representation

notions of masculinity were linked to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s leadership, the lead proponent of the India–US nuclear deal. Part of the disagreement hinged on a perception of whether or not Manmohan Singh had upheld or betrayed his own integrity, his honour, and his ‘word’; whether he had backtracked on a promise to return to the UPA–left coordination committee and not negotiate further without their approval. Media hyperbole positioned his leadership traits and his subsequent transformation into a statesman, infused with tropes of masculinization. Before the vote, Singh was reportedly the ‘primetime embodiment of un-freedom’ in deference to the UPA chairperson Sonia Gandhi, but victory in the confidence vote liberated him from ‘fettered’ leadership and made him a ‘conviction politician’ (Chawla and Prasannarajan, 2008). This media hyperbole two days after the government had survived the confidence vote depicted a ‘triumphant’ Prime Minister Manmohan Singh: he ‘stood in the house with the poise of a warrior king’, as ‘Manmohan Rearmed’ (Chawla and Prasannarajan, 2008). Mehbooba Mufti’s speech in the debate, in contrast, made reference to the masculinist nationalism on display, though this was not expressed in the chamber and only recorded as part of her speech as laid on the table. She instead argued for a reorienting of priorities suggesting that, since we have already joined the nuclear club and we are a nuclear country, we have already taken enough pride … I would not mind if we don’t burst any more bombs in future, but are able to provide at least minimum

policy this entails ‘a concerted effort to acquire nuclear technology, the ultimate symbol of modernity, while promoting universal nuclear disarmament’, with the latter providing a kind of normative check on the extent to which India could move ahead with its nuclear programme (Chacko, 2011: 208). Through the lens of Hindu nationalist Indian identity, however, there is paradoxically less concern about Western mimicry and, thus, less reluctance to pursue nuclear technology, because in that view ‘Modernity is not a masculine, Western garb that must be put on because all the values that it signifies—instrumental reason, rationality, a “scientific temper”—can be found in the glorious past of “Hindu civilization”’ (Chacko, 2011: 203). In both contexts, however, India’s ‘responsibility’ is emphasized, for example, under the no-first-use policy under Vajpayee in the late 1990s, in which India was positioned as a responsible and patient opponent of a supposedly more hostile Pakistan (Chacko, 2011: 206; cf. Corbridge, 1999). Ultimately, the Indo-US nuclear deal provided legitimacy for India as a responsible state with nuclear weapon status (Chacko, 2011: 206).

Women Members of Parliament

203

basic things to our population who are living below poverty line. We still have a lot of disparity between the haves and have nots and that is a bomb ticking inside our country. (LS Debates, 2008: cols. 100–3)

Other MPs framed the issue in terms of poverty and energy insecurity and inequality, looking to civil nuclear energy as a solution, and with gendered undertones. Rahul Gandhi, for example, invoked in his speech the supposedly feminine face of energy insecurity and poverty, and spoke of two poor struggling women he had met (LS Debates, 2008, 21 July: cols. 42–7). His remarks drew sarcastic comments from others in the chamber, which both he and the speaker admonished forcefully. Senior opposition leader L. K. Advani had also earlier rejected the framing of the issue as one of energy security, calling this framing a ruse.38 Otherwise, few MPs in the spoken debates made attempts to claim representation of ‘women’s interests’, except for a few brief assessments of the UPA’s performance against their programmatic commitments to empower women, some of which were found in tabled speeches, including by women MPs. Instead, several MPs made reference to the problems of the ‘common man’, though again in tabled speeches. If identity did become important during the debate, it was in connection with Indian Muslims, and linked to both nationalism and poverty (a continuation of a theme outside the debates). Competing claims to the ‘Muslim perspective’ on the deal were offered by several male MPs, such as Asaduddin Owaisi (AIMIM) and Omar Abdullah (J&K National Conference), both of whom made prominent tail-end speeches that were supportive of the government:39 I am a Muslim, and I am an Indian. I see no distinction between the two … (Interruptions) I see no reason why I, as a Muslim, have to fear a deal between India and the United States of America … the enemies of Indian Muslims are not the Americans, and the enemies of the Indian Muslims are not ‘deals’ like this. The enemies of Indian Muslims are the same enemies that all the poor people of India face, namely, poverty and hunger, unemployment, lack of development and the absence of a voice. (LS Debates, 2008, 22 July: col. 105–6) 38

L. K. Advani argued that ‘[t]his Government is not able to fix the problems of the common man’ (Lok Sabha 21 July 2008, pp. 71–2). The deal was more a symbolic recognition of India’s nuclear state status, of India as a great power; it would not have a substantial impact on reducing the dependence of India on conventional forms of energy (Hasan, 2012: 213). 39 Abdullah’s speech was reviewed positively in the press (Chatterjee, 2010).

204

Performing Representation

Negotiating Authenticity: Concern, ‘Complementarity’, and Containment

How do women representatives manage the inevitable conflict that arises when they challenge dominant ideas, norms, and practices within institutions? In the Indian Parliament, women MPs appear to be faced with a tension between the burden of representation for ‘women’s issues’ among a whole host of competing representational obligations while simultaneously being concerned about the invisibility of women’s concerns in Parliament. Women MPs do argue for prioritizing the participation of women MPs, but they also want male MPs to participate more, especially in support of ‘women’s issues’. Women MPs have to manage ‘gender conflict’ through strategies of invoking concern, complementarity, and containment such that their ascriptive identity and its usage does not clash too much with their challenging male norms and mechanisms. The domestic violence bill debates are a good illustration. As briefly mentioned earlier, Kiran Maheswari, in the domestic violence debates, asked for more opportunities for women to speak in debates in Parliament in future but also encouraged male members to participate on such issues, noting with disappointment (and amidst interruptions) their lack of participation in the debate: Many of our male colleagues who are present here supported the cause … [H]owever, I am sorry to say that the male Members did not participate in discussion as much as the women Members … (Interruptions). It cannot be possible that they did not get [the] opportunity. (LS Debates, 2005b, 24 August: col. 485–6)

This followed the minister for parliamentary affairs’ attempts the day before to persuade women MPs that male MPs were supportive of the legislation: Let our sisters not misunderstand us that when there are other important issues, we extend the time of the House and today when we are discussing an important Bill, which is directly related to women, nobody is interested. We are interested in this discussion. (LS Debates, 2005, 23 August: col. 411)

Yet audiovisual recordings show that on both days of the debate, the chamber, particularly the front benches, were empty. That the minister felt the need to make this statement to placate female MPs arguably confirms rather than refutes the perception that male MPs have been disengaged with ostensibly pro-women legislative initiatives.

Women Members of Parliament

205

As noted earlier, it also poses problems for presiding officers who want to give opportunities to women to speak and protect their time from interruptions from male members. In a discussion on International Women’s Day in 2007, Speaker Chatterjee associated all male members with his support for women’s empowerment and prioritized the participation of women members. He noted that ‘whoever disturbs will be proved to be anti-women’ (LS Debates, 2007a). However, when time was running out in the discussion, several male members pleaded with the speaker to allow them to speak also. One male member, Sontosh Mohan Dev, protested the speaker’s refusal to let him speak by legitimizing his own intervention thus: ‘Sir, I have four daughters, two granddaughters and one wife. I should be allowed to speak’ (LS Debates, 2007b). On International Women’s Day in 2010, just when the passage of the WRB was being debated, controversially, in the Rajya Sabha, in the Lok Sabha the Samajwadi Party’s Shailendra Kumar staged a protest on the floor of the house preceded by the statement: ‘We oppose the current form of women reservation bill. We are not against women’ (LS Debates, 2010). This prevented women MPs in the Lok Sabha, other than then Speaker Meira Kumar and the minister for women and child development who both made statements, from speaking in the discussion on International Women’s Day. At the same time, when women MPs openly express their objections, their relative hypervisibility may provoke a defensive response from male MPs. In the domestic violence debates, two female MPs (Maheswari and Seeramesh) took exception to a male MP’s (Yadav) comments during his speech, and asked that the words be removed from the record as unparliamentary. Another male MP (Jha) reportedly40 remarked: ‘When they constitute only five per cent of the membership of the House, this is the state of affairs. What will happen when they have 33 per cent reservation’ (The Hindu, 2005). Jha’s remark drew laughter among MPs in the chamber. In the context of the UK, Puwar provides a plausible interpretation for this kind of interjection: a reactionary response by privileged groups to the amplification of visibility of a minority or marginalized group within an institutional setting: Intrinsic to the dynamics involved in the amplification of numbers is the phenomenon of visibility, threat and terror. As bodies out of place or 40

This was reported in the press but does not appear in the printed debates.

206

Performing Representation

unexpected bodies, they are highly conspicuous. This is a visibility that comes from not being the norm … The amplification occurs not only because they are unknown but precisely because they are already ‘known’ in ways which are seen to threaten the spurious claims on space for a superior identity. There is a terror of numbers, a fear of being swamped. (Puwar, 2004: 49)

The response from dominant groups (upper-caste, male Hindu MPs) is a heightened vigilance and protection against what they perceive as a potential act of exclusionary aggression from collectively organized minority or marginalized individuals (lower-caste female Muslim or other minority MPs [Puwar, 2004: 53]). Noting that this may manifest itself, as it does here, in the form of ‘male talk (humour)’, Puwar suggests that ‘the threat that these women may actually form some kind of organisational alliance (regiment) is what is feared, because it will displace the existing masculine organisational forms that manage to stay unmarked and invisible’ (Puwar, 2004: 53). Consequently, women MPs have felt obliged to pre-empt the appearance that they are being hostile towards male colleagues, to defuse gender conflict, contain the transformative potential of the legislation, and cautiously placate men MPs when raising their concerns. MPs in the debates of both the domestic violence and NREGA bills cautioned against the threat to family or household cohesion posed by the bills in question, which, thus, needed containing; though in the latter bill, the gender quota in allocation of work was one way in which conflict in the household would be addressed. In some cases, women MPs argued in favour of the instrumental benefits of legislation for women as ultimately beneficial for their families, relying on conservative notions of maternal altruism and ‘de-contaminating’ the legislation of its feminist potential. MPs raised concerns about the misuse or over-extension of both legislations. In the DV debate, women MPs sought to dispel fears that the legislation was an attack on men. Faced with repeated interruptions, Mahajan stated, ‘The way people are getting agitated, it seems that this bill is against men but it is not so. We want to empower women by giving them rights’ (LS Debates, 2005b, 23 August: col. 407; recall the epigraph to this chapter where similar remarks from Supriya Sule in a different debate in 2013 is cited). Mahajan was more conciliatory, but another female MP (Tirath) was more confrontational, noting that Shailendra Kumar’s opposition to the bill reflected his ‘patriarchal attitude’ (LS Debates, 2005b: cols. 489–90). In our time in Parliament, it became clear that the more confrontational approach results in

Women Members of Parliament

207

institutional backlash, with some women MPs, particularly from opposition parties, and male administrators saying she is too aggressive. Negotiating gender roles, institutional gender bias, and claims for equality in a social context of gender inequalities is a difficult challenge. Overt and covert sexism constrains women MPs’ performance in debates, both numerically in terms of the number of women who speak in debates and also in terms of the time that they are able to garner to make their arguments. *** What are debates for? What representational labour is performed in debates? And what are their performative effects? Do they help or hinder women MPs’ attempts to perform representation? Our task in this chapter was to understand the different power dynamics invoked in the performance of representation in the chamber: the substance of claimmaking (who is representative and represented); how opportunities to make such claims are controlled, accessed, distributed, and structured; how gender issues are constructed and how they get onto the agenda and in what form; as well as gendered authenticity and how it is mobilized and negotiated through performances and gendered norms. We find that institutional norms structuring the participation of women MPs in parliamentary debates and institutional spaces are complex, varied, and contingent and require further exploration to better understand the consequences for political representation, democratic inclusion, and legitimacy. It would be unwise to claim our close reading of the three selected debates as fully representative of women MPs’ participation in parliamentary debates generally, and how gender is constructed, performed, and reproduced in debates; hence, our drawing on a wider range of material. However, these selected debates provide insights for how both men and women MPs make claims to represent women in specific contexts. Our discussion questions whether representative claims to authenticity reproduce the marginalization of women MPs and diminish the responsibility of male parliamentarians to represent female constituents. We should be concerned about and need to understand further the consequences of reproducing a gendered division of labour where only women MPs, and not men, are tasked to represent ‘women’s issues’ or where women MPs are only tasked to represent ‘women’s issues’ and not other issues. What are the trade-offs for women’s participation in other

208

Performing Representation

issue areas? And what broader impact does this have on women’s visibility in parliamentary spaces? The continued invisibility of women MPs in some debates is also cause for concern. That representatives of women’s movements found space to raise concerns in the deliberative process of legislating NREGA is encouraging. However, we find a disconnect between the NREGA debate’s reputation as a ‘good debate’ and the inclusivity of women MPs and the limited discussion of rural women’s labour. In contrast, the Motion of Confidence reflected poorly on Parliament’s reputation in many ways: high yet negative profile, tainted by protracted disruption, allegations of corruption and bribery for votes, and almost no participation by women MPs. While few women MPs spoke in the confidence motion debate in July 2008, several made their presence felt in other ways. But only Ranjeet Ranjan MP made a lateral observation about the lack of women participating in the debate. That a number of women MPs laid their speeches on the table and thus ‘contributed’ to the debate will be of little consolation in a context where the audiovisual often dominates over the written record (though as discussed in the previous chapter, social media now makes it easier for MPs to show evidence of representative labour). The bribery allegations on the floor of the house became yet another marker in the much lamented corruption in, and criminalization of, electoral politics, which, for advocates of gender inclusivity in democratic politics, is seen as one of the more significant deterrents to women’s participation. The politics of alliances surrounding the 2008 confidence motion and the survival of the government also had a subsequent impact on the fate of the WRB. The Samajwadi Party came to the Congress’s aid when the left withdrew support for the government in 2008, and that enabled the government to survive the confidence motion vote. The Congress and alliance partners were re-elected in 2009 and introduced the WRB in the Rajya Sabha in 2008, which then went to a committee for examination. But as a key opponent of the WRB, the Samajwadi Party staunchly opposed it. When the bill was passed in March 2010 in the Rajya Sabha amid controversial disruptive scenes, the government refused to bring it to the Lok Sabha before a consensus had been reached among all parties and no further progress was made. Subsequent to the 2013 debates on sexual violence, there appeared to be an upturn in women’s interventions in debates, but the sustainability of this renewed impetus needs to be scrutinized alongside new challenges relating to gender and representation and conservative notions of women’s empowerment in the changed political circumstances.

Women Members of Parliament

209

If participation in debates is one measure of women’s participation in the work of Parliament, another important arena of work is the committee system. Away from the performative bear pit of the Chamber, this is where legislation is scrutinized and the executive held accountable. How do women MPs fare in committees is the subject of the next chapter. In the context of our discussion of the gendered debates in this chapter, we focus on the CEW to assess the work of women MPs, as well as the institutional marginality of this committee.

6

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

Other committees go into the routine matters, this committee is fighting against society not against the government. (MP12, 10 August 2010)

s the general secretary of the Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU) A writes in the ‘Foreword’ to the publication The Role of Parliamentary Committees in Mainstreaming Gender and Promoting the Status of Women, ‘ultimately, parliaments must become gender-sensitive, and mainstreaming gender equality in committee work and parliamentary outputs is essential for ensuring respect for women’s rights’ (2006: iii; discussed further in Chapter 9). In 2008, 93 parliamentary committees in 80 countries had the responsibility of addressing gender equality (Ballington, 2008: 65). As of October 2017, the IPU PARLINE database showed 151 specialized parliamentary bodies on gender equality across 123 countries.1 Of these 151 bodies, 47 included some reference to equality, equal opportunities, or equal treatment, sometimes paired with gender and sometimes not. The specialized committees on gender equality of only two countries referred to the empowerment of women in their title—India and Indonesia—with many preferring some variant of ‘equality’ instead.2 1 See http://www.ipu.org/parline-e/Instancelist.asp?newquery=yes&typefor mInstance=Advanced, last accessed on 4 October 2017. 2 The full title of Indonesia’s committee is ‘Committee VIII (Religious Affairs, Social Affairs, Women’s Empowerment and Child Protection)’ (see http:// archive.ipu.org/parline-e/Instancelist.asp, last accessed on 4 October 2017).

Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0007

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

211

Once in Parliament, what work do women members do? Other than participating in parliamentary debates (see Chapter 5), one of the most prominent roles that MPs perform is as members of parliamentary committees. Committees, away from the public gaze, work to operationalize the policy rhetoric that we so often hear in debates and speeches on the floor of the house. There are 43 standing committees in the Indian Parliament and a number of ad hoc committees; the number changes over time as some old committees become redundant and other new ones are created. Only three of these are focused on sections of the Indian population seen to be socially or politically ‘backward’—Committee on Welfare of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (established in 1968), the CEW (established in 1996), and the Committee on Welfare of Other Backward Classes (established in 2012). Most other committees have departmental portfolios such as agriculture, defence, finance, or internal issues or functional areas such as rules, ethics, assurances, audits, and salaries and allowances of MPs. These workhorses of democracy are critically important to our understanding of parliaments, but there is comparatively little work done on what they do and none that we can find on the CEW (Rodrigues, 2014: 160). This work is important not only to better understand the processes of legislation or executive scrutiny, but also to examine the institutional power and marginalization— through membership of committees as well as some of the issues taken up (in this case gender)—that are clearly reflected in the positions committees occupy in parliamentary hierarchy. In this chapter we argue, first, that although its establishment was important in the context of international institutional trends after the Beijing Conference, the CEW occupies a marginal position in Parliament, as demonstrated by what it gets to scrutinize or not. Second, we explore the relationship between the CEW and other women-focused national institutions such as the National Commission for Women (NCW) to study the interactions between parliamentary and non-governmental bodies promoting women’s empowerment and the role that women MPs play in this. Third, we reflect on what the implications for women MPs are to participate in other committee work. Does it result in a ‘burden of representation’ on women members who are a marginalized minority group in Parliament, preventing them from being involved in other commitments (Puwar, 2004)? What are the implications for male MPs’ engagement with women’s empowerment? We examine the consequences of this division of representational labour for (a) female

212

Performing Representation

participation in other committees and (b) the engagement of male members with issues of women’s empowerment. Finally, we examine the role between women’s groups and the CEW—does the establishment of a women’s committee register among women’s groups? Are they mutually supportive? Our concern in this chapter is to understand whether this gender-focused committee and women MPs’ work in this committee helps to (a) promote gender equality through scrutiny of legislation; (b) improve women MPs’ institutional position; and (c) change the gendered nature of the committee structure. We find that the following: (a) CEW is important to women members who participate in its work, although this is not a universal experience; (b) there is continuing scepticism in public (women’s movements and groups included) about its ability to bring about change—this may be due to the CEW’s limited involvement in scrutinizing proposed legislation, which is often carried out by the relevant departmental standing committee; and (c) there is a rather weak collective institutional position, with a particular representation of gender it embodies and the opportunities for performing representation it offers members.

Institutional Marginality: Committee on Empowerment of Women Parliament, like any other institution, shapes its working bodies and is in turn shaped by them. The membership of committees often reflects the prominence of the MPs—their leadership and seniority or expertise. At the same time, the committee system also reflects the importance of some issues—finance, general accounts—rather than others, the CEW for example. So, committees are no different: They reflect institutional power, which gives enormous visibility and privilege to the members of some committees, but on the other hand some committees remain in relative obscurity. There is a growing, although still somewhat slender, literature on parliamentary committees and other gender-focused bodies (see Grace and Sawer’s [2016] introduction to their edited special issue of Parliamentary Affairs). Much of this literature focuses on Western parliaments and tends to generalize about all parliaments from this. Because of this, our analysis of the CEW in the Indian Parliament is occasionally at variance with this literature. For example, unlike Sawer and Turner, we did not find that ‘the creation of such bodies is a significant form of women’s movement activism’. Or that ‘there are good reasons to regard the creation of institutional sites

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

213

of advocacy for women, or feminist institution-building, as part of the repertoire of the women’s movement’ (2016: 763, 765). Second, we did not find that there was any decisive ‘role of feminists in the creation of gender-focused parliamentary bodies’ (2016: 765). As we shall see below, many factors contributed to the setting up of the CEW; the role of feminists, although important in supporting this initiative, is not prominent; rather we find that there is a recognition among feminist groups of the weak position of the CEW within Parliament and its role in standing up for women’s interests more generally. We did find that ‘the international standard-setting that has taken place within bodies such as IPU and the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE) and within the Commonwealth Parliamentary Association’ (Sawer and Turner, 2016: 765; see also Kwesiga, 2003) has supported the setting up of the CEW; but not that this global agenda setting on women’s rights has necessarily reflected in the work of the CEW. Sawer and Turner are correct in pointing out, from within the feminist institutionalist framework, that ‘feminist institutions nested within long-standing parliamentary and governance structures are characteristically precarious and repeated struggles are usually required to ensure their survival’ (2016: 765). We argue that they are also precariously positioned to fight for women’s substantive interests. Further, as the IPU on committees suggests (IPU, 2006: 1), we find that the lack of a critical mass of women in Parliament, together with the strong role that political parties play in committee work, means that women MPs are less effective than they might otherwise be. Committee System

The Indian Parliament has three different committee categories: (a) ad hoc committees; (b) standing committees; and (c) other committees. Ad hoc committees are appointed for a specific purpose and they cease to exist when they finish the task assigned to them and submit a report. Standing committees are long-standing bodies and include different kinds of committees, such as financial committees which act as Parliament’s ‘watchdogs’ over the executive and include the powerful Public Accounts Committee and also the departmentally related standing committees (DRSCs), which were established under the speakership of Shivraj Patil in 1993. The CEW comes under the category of standing committees (other). The relative importance of committees can be context dependent; an important piece of legislation can be referred

214

Performing Representation

to an otherwise low-profile committee for consultation and scrutiny. But generally, financial committees are seen as important, as are particular DRSCs dealing with finance, home affairs, defence, and railways ministerial portfolios, and some other standing committees that have an important bearing on proceedings or the institution generally and, thus, confer prestige on committee members. Finally, some committees are convened on specific issues such as joint parliamentary investigatory committees, which inquires into government or parliamentary irregularities such as the telecom licence and spectrum allocation controversy under the UPA-II government (2009–14). Unlike the chambers of both houses, committees are closed to public viewing; so, our analysis of performance there is necessarily mediated. However, we find this lack of open scrutiny, and of an immediate audience, to be an interesting dynamic in itself. On the one hand, it distinguishes the mode and extent of performative labour taking place in committees from that which takes place in debates. In the absence of a public audience, does the performance change? It is widely acknowledged that this lack of conventional partisan public performance actually enables the committee system in its work; it escapes the tumultuous performative ruptures that are so evident in parliamentary debates, for example. On the other hand, the lack of visibility can limit the impact of the committee’s work unevenly, especially if, like the CEW, it begins with an already low profile and works on subjects considered marginal to ‘high politics’. The CEW was formally jointly constituted by the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha on 29 April 1997 after two identical resolutions for constituting a standing committee of both the houses for improving the status of women were moved on International Women’s Day, 8 March 1996.3 The Committee is made up of 30 members, 20 from the Lok Sabha and 10 from the Rajya Sabha, nominated by the presiding officer of each house. The committee is chaired by a member from the Lok Sabha nominated by the speaker. No ministers can be appointed to the committee, and should a committee member later be appointed as a minister, their committee membership would end (Parliament of India4).

3

March 8, as International (Working) Women’s Day, carries immense symbolic significance in India, perhaps because of India’s socialist tradition. 4 http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/Comm_Introductionnew. pdf#page=3.

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

215

The CEW is remarkable in that it is the only committee in both houses which is dominated by women MPs, and consistently and markedly so, which affects its institutional position (see also IPU, 2006). The presence of women MPs in the CEW is regularly above 80 per cent reaching 90 per cent of the membership on occasion (see Figure 6.1). This makes India one of the outliers in terms of majority female membership: according to the IPU, ‘men form half or more of the membership in 50 percent of committees dealing with gender equality and the status of women. Only one committee has 100 percent female membership’, Belgium’s Advisory Committee on Social Emancipation (Ballington, 2008: 65n14). This overwhelming majority contrasts markedly with women’s presence on other committees in the two houses.5 However, what is equally noticeable is the absence of men: In the first year of the 16th Lok Sabha

Figure 6.1

Composition of Members of the CEW, 13th to 16th Lok Sabhas

Source: Compiled by the authors from individual committee reports of the CEW and from the CEW website (CEW, n.d.). Note: Information for 13th Lok Sabha (1999–2001) was not available. Data on 16th Lok Sabha is provided up to most recent year of committee.

5

A more detailed picture of committee membership is provided in Tables 6.2.

216

Performing Representation

(2014–15), out of 30 members on the CEW there were no male MPs from the Lok Sabha and only 3 male MPs from the Rajya Sabha (with two seats remaining vacant).6 This absence was visible and audible in the debate on the establishment of the committee. In the Lok Sabha, Pratibha Patil, then a Maharashtra MP from Congress, and who later became the first female president of India, moved a resolution to establish a standing committee for the empowerment of women (LS Debates, 1996, 8 March: col. 198; see Table 6.1).7 Uma Bharti, BJP MP, spoke Table 6.1

Parliament

Timetable of Events in the CEW’s Establishment

Date

Event

10th Lok Sabha 8 March 1996

International Women’s Day: Resolution moved in the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha for establishment of committee

11th Lok Sabha 6 March 1997

Rules Committee lays report on the table of the house recommending establishment of committee

11th Lok Sabha 29 April 1997

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Najma Heptulla

12th Lok Sabha 13 October 1998

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Najma Heptulla

13th Lok Sabha 7 March 2000

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Margaret Alva

14th Lok Sabha 16 August 2004

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Krishna Tirath

15th Lok Sabha 23 September 2009 16 November 2012

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Chandresh Kumari Katoch Chairperson: Rajkumari Ratna Singh MP

16th Lok Sabha 1 September 2014

Committee first constituted Chairperson: Bijoya Chakravarty MP

Source: Compiled by the authors. 6 As listed in the composition of the committee in the committee’s first report of the 16th Lok Sabha. 7 In the Rajya Sabha, it was Najma Heptulla who moved the resolution. At that time, Heptulla occupied the role of the deputy chairperson of the Rajya Sabha for nine years across several terms, and she became the first chairperson of the CEW.

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

217

of her dissatisfaction with the lack of male voices in the discussion and suggested that the speaker ask both the Prime Minister Narasimha Rao and her party leader Atal Bihari Vajpayee to contribute to the debate: ‘They should also be asked to speak something about women. Please, ask Atalji also to speak on it. The Prime Minister should also be asked to speak on it. Our male colleagues should also be asked to speak on it’ (LS Debates, 1996, 8 March: col. 203). The then prime minister, Narasimha Rao, complied and responded by saying: Sir on behalf of the Government I would like to assure the House that we are entirely in agreement with the spirit of the Resolution … And whatever the lady Members and other Members, those who are thinking on the subject deeply for years and years, whatever they suggest, those suggestions will receive very earnest consideration by the Government. (LS Debates, 1996, 8 March: col. 204)

Vajpayee did not speak. Several women MPs such as Girija Vyas (Congress), made reference to both International Women’s Day and the Beijing conference in their speech supporting the resolution; Malini Bhattacharya (CPI[M]) recalled the original working class women’s orientation of International Women’s Day (LS Debates, 1996, 8 March: col. 202). The resolution stated that the CEW’s objectives were to augment the status and well-being of women, and its functions are as follows: 1. To consider the reports submitted by the NCW and to report on the measures that should be taken by the union government for improving the status/conditions of women in respect of matters within the purview of the union government, including the administration of the Union Territories. 2. To examine the measures taken by the union government to secure for women equality, status, and dignity in all matters. 3. To examine the measures taken by the union government for comprehensive education and adequate representation of women in legislative bodies/services and other fields. 4. To report on the working of the welfare programmes for women. 5. To report on the action taken by the union government and administration of the Union Territories on the measures proposed by the CEW. 6. To examine such other matters as may seem fit to the CEW or are specifically referred to it by the Lok Sabha or the speaker and the Rajya Sabha or the chairman, Rajya Sabha.

218

Performing Representation

The Gendered Politics of Membership

Committee seats are limited in number and can confer power, status, influence, and resources (Heath, Schwindt-Bayer, and Taylor-Robinson, 2005). A study of parliamentary committees in India contended that parties take committees seriously: If we go by the attitude of the political parties here, it seems that committees carry significant weight in the corridors of power. The issue of appointment for chairs of these committees often acquires such a serious proportion that the parties threaten to boycott and coalitions are made or unmade. (Jha, 2009: 8)

As women MPs are a minority group in Parliament, it is to be expected that they would have a minority presence in committees also. However, the uneven distribution of men and women across particular committees suggests a clearly gendered hierarchy in the committees of which they are members, which in part is determined by party nomination and institutional scarcity of committee places. At the same time, the problem of low numbers of women MPs resulting in higher workload as a result of membership on several committees has been noted as a problem in the international comparative context. Where there are too few women MPs to participate in a range of committees this creates higher workload. Women are also in the minority on committees which may affect the contribution they want to make and the influence they have (Ballington, 2008: 62, 64; see also Kathlene, 1994 for a classic study). Despite this, even parliaments with a higher proportion of women MPs, for example in Sweden, have seen gendered concentrations of committee portfolios such as ‘men in defence, women in social affairs’ (respondent from Sweden, cited in Ballington, 2008: 64). Similar to anecdotal evidence among Indian MPs, a majority of MPs (56 per cent) surveyed by the IPU hold the opinion that the specialized bodies on gender equality are effective in their work, whereas 31 per cent were ambivalent. Only 13 per cent disagreed (Ballington, 2008: 65). In other words, when securing opportunities for performing representation, gender matters. Officially, members are nominated to the committee by the speaker of the Lok Sabha and the chairperson of the Rajya Sabha, but the speaker (Lok Sabha) or chairperson (Rajya Sabha) invites suggestions for names from parties. Members can submit their preferences to their parliamentary party leaders but their preferences are not guaranteed; the convention is that MPs become members of the committee as a result of nomination by their party leaders. Members do not necessarily sit on

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

219

the same committees for their full parliamentary term; while they may be re-nominated, membership technically lasts for one year, after which the committee is reconstituted. Some have noted that this prevents the development of specialist expertise among MPs—unless they can convince their party to re-nominate them to a committee—which has an impact on the quality of a committee’s work (Jha, 2009: 12). The same study suggests that this may even be a deliberate move by some regional parties to avoid individual MPs developing too much of an independent base (Jha, 2009: 12). Women committee members constitute only 11–12 per cent of the total membership in both houses of Parliament, reflecting their membership of Parliament8 as well as dominant gendered norms that govern this distribution. During the 15th Lok Sabha, the only committee that came close to a substantial (yet still minority) presence of women MPs is the Library Committee with three women members and six male members. In the first year of the 16th Lok Sabha, the only other Lok Sabha or joint committees with a markedly disproportionate presence of women members (more than 20 per cent) were the DRSCs on Social Justice and Empowerment (related to marginalized groups—SCs and STs in official parlance but more respectfully referred to as Dalits and Adivasis), and, rather depressingly, the committee on Food Management in the Parliament Complex, a relatively minor ‘housekeeping’ committee with clear gendered connotations (see Table 6.2). Women members comprised approximately 37 per cent and 21 per cent of the membership of these committees respectively. Among Rajya Sabha–specific committees in 2015, women were ‘disproportionately’ present (more than 20 per cent) in two committees, including another relatively minor housekeeping committee, the Provision of Computers to Members (38 per cent), and more encouragingly the Privileges Committee. There was not a single woman MP nominated to the joint parliamentary committee constituted to investigate the 2G telecom licence allocation controversy. Neither were there any women in the Petitions Committee in the 15th Lok Sabha (the year examined, 2013), and there was only 1 woman MP among 21 male MPs on the Public Accounts Committee, one of the three financial committees deemed most powerful in terms of influence (Rodrigues, 2014: 163). Similarly, only one woman MP was a member

8

This applies to the time of retrieving the data, and membership sometimes changes year on year but broad patterns tend to remain the same.

220

Performing Representation

Table 6.2 Presence of Women MPs on Financial Committees and Selected DRSCs, 13th–16th Lok Sabhas

Parliament Committee

Woman Chair?

13th Lok Sabha (1999–2004)

Number of Women on Committee/Total Members on Committee 1999– 2000

2000–1

2001–2

2002–3

2003–4

Estimates (LS)

No

1/30

1/30

1/30

1/30

1/30

Public Accounts (LS and RS)

No

1/22

0/23

0/21

0/21

0/21

Public Undertakings (LS and RS)

No

1/22

2/22

2/22

2/22

3/22

Finance (DRSC)

No

1/45

1/43

1/41

1/44

1/45

Defence (DRSC)

No

3/44

4/45

2/41

3/43

2/44

Railways (DRSC)

No

5/45

6/43

8/43

6/45

6/45

Empowerment of Women

Yes

n/a

n/a

24/28

25/30

24/29

2006–7

2007–8

2008–9

14th Lok Sabha (2004–9)

2004–5 2005–6

Estimates (LS)

No

0/30

0/30

0/30

0/30

0/29

Public Accounts (LS and RS)

No

0/21

0/22

0/22

0/22

0/22

Public Undertakings (LS and RS)

No

2/22

2/22

2/22

1/22

2/22

Finance (DRSC)

No

0/31

0/31

0/30

0/27

0/30

Defence (DRSC)

No

2/30

3/29

3/30

4/31

3/32

Railways (DRSC)

No

3/31

3/31

0/31

0/31

1/31

Empowerment of Women

Yes

25/30

25/30

24/30

19/26

21/30

2009– 10

2010– 11

2011– 12

2012– 13

2013– 14

15th Lok Sabha (2009–14) Estimates (LS)

No

2/30

3/30

4/30

4/30

5/28

Public Accounts (LS and RS)

No

0/22

0/22

1/22

1/22

1/22

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

Table 6.2

221

(Cont’d)

Public Undertakings (LS and RS)

No

1/22

1/22

3/21

2/22

2/21

Finance (DRSC)

No

1/31

1/31

0/31

1/30

1/31

Defence (DRSC)

No

2/31

1/30

1/30

3/33

3/29

Railways (DRSC)

No

8/31

9/31

6/30

4/31

3/31

Empowerment of Women

Yes

25/30

23/29

26/29

27/30

19/24

2014– 15

2015– 16

2016– 17

2017– 18

16th Lok Sabha (2014–current) Estimates (LS)

No

2/32

2/31

2/30

3/28

Public Accounts (LS and RS)

No

0/19

0/22

1/22

1/20

Public Undertakings (LS and RS)

No

0/22

0/23

1/22

0/22

Finance (DRSC)

No

0/29

0/31

n/a

0/31

Defence (DRSC)

No

4/30

4/30

n/a

4/30

Railways (DRSC)

No

1/33

0/31

n/a

1/31

Empowerment of Women

Yes

25/28

26/28

27/30

27/30

Source: Compiled by the authors based on individual committee reports and webpages from the Lok Sabha Secretariat website (Estimates: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/ Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_code=10&tab=0; public accounts: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=26&tab=0; public undertakings: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=27&tab=0; finance: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=12&tab=1; defence: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=7&tab=1; railways http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=28&tab=1; empowerment of women: http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation.aspx?comm_ code=8&tab=2). Note: Where committee number exceeds 30 it is because of more members serving only part of a year on the committee and being replaced within the same year.

222

Performing Representation

of the HRD Committee (DRSC), despite the fact that this covers the portfolio of the MWCD. Women MPs are also disproportionately fewer among committee chairpersons. The speaker nominates a chairperson from among the members of the committee usually opting for the senior-most MP, but not always if one member has considerable expertise in that portfolio. During the 15th Lok Sabha, for example, with the exception of the committee chaired by Speaker Meira Kumar, who chaired a number of committees ex officio, there were only two committees chaired by women MPs—Maneka Gandhi and Sumitra Mahajan. Both opposition MPs, these women chaired two relatively important committees—the Committees on Government Assurances and Rural Development respectively. Both MPs have considerable parliamentary experience, with Mahajan then serving her seventh term in Parliament, having been continuously elected since the 9th Lok Sabha in 1989 and subsequently going on to become speaker of the 16th Lok Sabha. Maneka Gandhi also served her 6th term during the 15th Lok Sabha (2009–14), having also been elected in consecutive elections since the 9th Lok Sabha, with the exception of the 10th Lok Sabha (1991–6). And yet, successive CEWs have been chaired by women: Najma Heptulla (11th and 12th Lok Sabhas, 1997–8 and 1998–9; Congress), Margaret Alva (13th Lok Sabha, 1999–2004; Congress), Krishna Tirath (14th Lok Sabha, 2004–9; Congress), and Chandresh Kumari Katoch (15th Lok Sabha, 2009–12, Congress). Rajkumari Ratna Singh (Congress) took over from Chandresh Kumari in 2012 when the latter was appointed as a minister for culture, and Singh chaired until the end of the 15th Lok Sabha in 2014. Bijoya Chakravarty, a BJP MP from Assam, was appointed as the new chair of the CEW in the 16th Lok Sabha, under the new BJP-led NDA government from 2014, and was the first non-Congress chair of the committee since its inception. It is not entirely clear whether the role of committee chairperson of the CEW carries significance or cache, but the CEW’s second chairperson, Margaret Alva, recalled some tension arising between the then chairperson, Najma Heptulla, a Rajya Sabha MP, and her, by then a Lok Sabha MP, shortly before Alva took over the role of committee chairperson (Alva, 2016: 303). Both wanted to chair the committee but Alva was appointed because the administration of the committee moved from the Rajya Sabha to the Lok Sabha. It is also interesting to note that the first three chairs of the CEW, while very experienced and arguably elite women in politics, are from ‘minority’ or ‘marginalized’ religious or caste communities: Muslim

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

223

(Heptulla), Christian (Alva), and Dalit (Tirath). Is this a coincidence, a consequence of them all being senior experienced women MPs, or a deliberate attempt to address issues of intersectionality? This particular intersectional question aside, we cannot explain the gendered discrepancy in committee membership and chairpersonship other than in terms of structural gender inequalities being reflected in institutional processes of nomination and confirmation. The fact that women MPs are in relatively junior positions in Parliament and in parliamentary party leadership positions affects this. However, women MPs are not alone in being new: almost 60 per cent of all MPs elected to the 16th Lok Sabha were first-time elected MPs, with a slightly higher proportion among women than men (67 per cent among women MPs as opposed to 59 per cent overall; discussed further in Chapter 4). ‘Situated Knowledge’ vs ‘Burden of Representation’

Situated knowledge is often used as an explanation of men’s inability to participate in the CEW’s work. As one male MP said: They know the issue, they are part of the community that is submissive [sic?] so they can give better ideas … one thing we men find difficult in these meetings is that women have more knowledge about the problems of women. We don’t have. We see [the issue] generally as a social evil that women should be submissive to men. (MP12, 10 August 2010)

On the other hand, he felt supported, emboldened, and even mandated by the fact that his party, he claimed, ‘traditionally had been fighting … for empowerment of women, so it’s convenient and easy for me to put forward ideas’ (MP12, 10 August 2010). Among women members of the CEW, there was some acceptance of the small male presence: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Because this is a committee which is to take women’s issues forward and if there are men that are interested in doing that then they are very welcome to join CEW. But I think in most parties—because parties nominate, they suggest the women, the chair of course decides on a party basis but they do consult parties I think also. I think it’s perfectly alright. (MP18, 14 August 2010)

However, she contested the idea that women MPs necessarily had the right knowledge and experience to pursue a women’s empowerment agenda:

224

Performing Representation

Because of the women that are coming into Parliament now, they are not necessarily women that have been linked to women’s organizations and movements … I won’t say they are not interested in women’s issues but they’ve not been involved in women’s organizations and movements. That makes a big difference. (MP18, 14 August 2010)

In other words, it mattered to her that committee women were not feminists. Another woman MP and a member of the CEW justified the predominance of women members in the committee by way of situated knowledge but also objected to the narrow framing of issues. She thought it was fine for women to be nominated to the CEW because as women they experienced gendered inequality and had a better understanding of the issues involved. On the other hand, she objected to issues such as sexual harassment or ‘eve-teasing’ being referred to as women’s issues and preferred instead to see these as ‘social issues’, which would extend the responsibility to address them or raise concerns about them to the whole of society—men and women, not just women (MP42, 22 April 2015). Indeed another woman MP and a member of the committee thought there could be a reverse gender quota for men to ensure their presence in the committee (MP19, 11 August 2010).

Performing Representation: The Functioning of the Committee for the Empowerment of Women The chair of the CEW selects the subjects to be studied by the committee over the coming year in consultation with the members. The CEW has a clearly defined mandate to scrutinize government policies and programmes and to assess the functioning of the NCW. As a committee that is not aligned to any one ministry there is considerable scope for subject selection. Although a large part of the mandate of the CEW is clearly to scrutinize government institutions and government programmes and their working, at least one former member contrasted the main target of this committee with other committees saying that the CEW was there to fight society and not the government, as the disempowerment of women, gender-based discrimination, and misogynist perspectives were problems resulting from societal attitudes and practices: ‘This committee gives suggestion that will sometimes go against the accepted culture prevailing in the society which we want to change’ (MP12, 10 August 2010).

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

225

Marginal Role

From the 13th Lok Sabha onwards, the CEW has taken up a wide range of issues for consideration (see Table 6.3). It has examined government institutions, agencies, and schemes as well as issues considered to be important to the CEW’s empowerment agenda such as violence and desertion and the working conditions of women in various sectors. The CEW has summoned for evidence civil servants from a range of government ministries as well as officials from public sector organizations. It has worked across the government rather than focusing on one single portfolio. However, much of the high-profile legislation relating to women’s empowerment or gender discrimination that might have conferred prestige on the members and allowed them to develop expertise has not passed through the CEW but through committees related to specific ministerial portfolios. For example, a number of recent laws relating to legal discrimination, amending the Indian Penal Code, or amending the Constitution have necessarily passed through the Rajya Sabha’s Committee on Personnel, Public Grievances, Law and Justice. These include the Hindu Succession (Amendment) Act 2005 addressing gender discrimination in inheritance of property rights, the Criminal Law (Amendment) Act 2013 addressing laws on sexual violence and rape, and the most recent draft of the WRB which was introduced in 2008 and passed by the Rajya Sabha in 2010 but has not yet been passed in the Lok Sabha. It is also noticeable that the membership of the Committee on Personnel, Public Grievances, Law and Justice, comprising both Rajya Sabha and Lok Sabha members, was heavily male dominated at the time of analysis: there were only 3 women on this committee out of a total of 31. The portfolio of the DRSC for HRD covers the MWCD, and so it has also scrutinized draft legislation relating to women, whereas the CEW has not.9 The HRD committee has examined draft bills such as the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Bill, 2014, the Indecent Representation of 9

Very occasionally there is some direct interaction between the two committees (beyond some common membership). In 2002, CEW chair Margaret Alva gave a memorandum to the HRD committee when examining the domestic violence bill in 2002 (124th report), and her position as chair of the CEW was recognized in the report (Rajya Sabha, 2002). The contents of Alva’s memorandum (and of others) are not included in the committee report available on Parliament’s website.

226

Performing Representation

Table 6.3 Sabhas)

Matters Considered by the CEW of Women (13th–15th Lok

Type of Issue

Lok Sabha

Government agencies, institutions, and state-owned organizations

13th Functioning of National and State (1999–2004) Commissions for Women

Item

13th Functioning of Family Courts (1999–2004) 13th Training and Empowerment of Women in (1999–2004) Local Bodies 13th Women in Detention (1999–2004)

Government schemes

14th (2004–9)

Economic Upliftment of Scheduled Caste Women through National Scheduled Castes Finance and Development Corporation (NSFDC)

14th (2004–9)

Medical Facilities for Women at All India Institute of Medical Sciences (AIIMS), Hospitals, and Primary Health Centres

14th (2004–9)

Credit Facilities for Women by Public Sector Banks and National Bank For Agriculture and Rural Development (NABARD)

14th (2004–9)

Working Conditions of Women in Prasar Bharati (All India Radio and Doordarshan)

14th (2004–9)

Working Conditions of Women in MTNL

15th (2009–14)

Empowerment of Women through Panchayati Raj Institutions

15th (2009–14)

Women in Paramilitary and Armed Forces

15th (2009–14)

Working of National Commission for Women and State Commissions for Women

13th Health and Family Welfare Programmes for (1999–2004) Women 13th Education Programmes for Women (1999–2004)

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

Type of Issue

Lok Sabha

227

Item

13th Training Programmes for Women (1999–2004) 14th (2004–9)

Scheme for Rehabilitating Women in Difficult Circumstances (Swadhar)

14th (2004–9)

National Overseas Scholarship Scheme for Scheduled Caste Students for Higher Studies Abroad

14th (2004–9)

Insurance Schemes of LIC (state-owned) for Women

15th (2009–14)

NREGA and Empowerment of Women in Rural Areas

15th (2009–14)

Working Conditions of Accredited Social Health Activists (ASHAs)

15th (2009–14)

Working Conditions of Anganwadi Workers

Issues of concern 13th Functioning of Self-help Groups for (1999–2004) Economic Empowerment of Women 13th Violence against Women during Riots (1999–2004) 14th (2004–9)

Functioning of Self-Help Groups for Economic Empowerment of Women

14th (2004–9)

Working Condition of Women in Handloom Sector

14th (2004–9)

Working Condition of Women in Handicraft Sector

14th (2004–9)

Hostel Accommodation for Working Women

14th (2004–9)

Plight of Indian Women Deserted by NRI Husbands

15th Women Victims of HIV/AIDS (2009–2014) 15th Rights of Deserted Women (2009–2014) 15th Empowering Mothers of Differently Abled (2009–2014) Children Source: Compiled and categorized by the authors based on information from CEW’s website (http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Committee/CommitteeInformation. aspx?comm_code=8&tab=2).

228

Performing Representation

Women (Prohibition) Amendment Bill, 2012, the Protection of Women Against Sexual Harassment at Workplace Bill, 2010, the Immoral Traffic (Prevention) Amendment Bill, 2006, and the Protection from Domestic Violence Bill, 2002. While some studies suggest that this mainstreams gender across parliamentary work (IPU, 2006), we found that the CEW suffers from a lack of visibility because of not being aligned with the work of other more powerful committees affiliated with ministerial portfolios. However, the CEW has at times been able to intervene strongly in a few cases; when investigating violence against women in the Gujarat riots in 2002, the CEW found that the state women’s cell set up to investigate complaints of violence against women during the riots had ‘failed in their duty to gauge the extent of sufferings of the harassed women’ (CEW, 2003b: 83). It is important to note that the CEW was at that time chaired by Margaret Alva, a senior Congress MP, while the Congress’s rival, BJP, was the ruling party of the state government in Gujarat. Thus, the committee leadership had a greater degree of autonomy, and perhaps partisan pressure, in its critical investigation of gender-based violence in the Gujarat riots. However, despite such notable exceptions, the CEW has not been a central actor in the recent high-profile legislation affecting women’s lives, which also reinforces the peripheral status of, and impacts the visibility of the CEW in the eyes of the women’s movement, Parliament, and the public. Committee for the Empowerment of Women and the National Commission for Women

When the CEW was established, a key element of its mandate was to scrutinize the NCW. This commission was set up in 1992 by the National Commission for Women Act, 1990. The establishment of the NCW was a response to the women’s movement’s calls for such a body to represent women’s interests within government policy (Rai, 2003), and reflected a broader international trend in the growth of ‘national machineries for women’. Its parent ministry is the MWCD; the government appoint its members as well as a member-secretary to oversee the administration of the commission. Its purpose is primarily to examine constitutional and legal provisions for women and recommend changes where necessary as well as redress grievances and advise the government on policy affecting women (Rai, 2003; see also Arya, 2009).

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

229

Despite a mandate to scrutinize the NCW, the CEW has only twice looked at its functioning: once during the 13th Lok Sabha (1999–2004) and once during the 15th Lok Sabha (2009–14), producing four reports in total (two original and two follow-up reports). In fact, the NCW has been subjected to scrutiny much more regularly by the Departmental Standing Committee for the Ministry of HRD, whose portfolio includes the MWCD, which funds the NCW (discussed further later). The overall impression given by the CEW’s reports on the NCW is that the CEW strongly supports the purpose of the NCW in its work and all its efforts, and tries to help the NCW obtain more funds, staff and resources, and better support from the MWCD, who in turn have been subjected to rigorous questioning by the CEW. The CEW has been especially critical of the lack of response by the government, especially the MWCD, to the NCW’s recommendations: The Committee notes with dismay that many of these amendments/ recommendations are pending with the MWCD since long … The Commission does not necessarily get to know about the developments in the matter once these amendments/recommendations are submitted to the Government … The Committee are of the firm view that if the recommendations/amendments suggested by NCW are left to languish in the quagmire of deliberations and discussions, the very purpose of making those recommendations/amendments would be defeated and many hapless women may be denied relief and justice. (CEW, 2011: 45)

In its report, the CEW recommended a time frame for the government to respond, specific to different types of recommendations, between six months for status updates and up to two years for amendments to legislation (CEW, 2011). The MWCD responded with some resistance to this suggestion, stating that this was not always possible and sometimes wider and further consultations were required, a reply which the CEW did not fully accept (CEW, 2012). These criticisms by the CEW of the ministry do not appear to be motivated by partisan interests—the coalition government in power at the time of these reports was led by the Congress and a Congress MP was chair of the CEW. The NCW is not entirely let off the hook by the CEW. The latter has criticized the ‘total lack of coordination between the State Commissions and the National Commission for Women’ (CEW, 2011: 54). It also criticized the irregularity and delay in laying annual reports of the NCW in Parliament, though also attributed some blame to the MWCD for not coordinating with other ministries for their responses without which

230

Performing Representation

the NCW was not able to finalize reports (CEW, 2011: 49–50). The CEW has also praised the research commissioned by the NCW, and its initiatives but emphasized that they should be carefully selected, funds should be awarded fairly and transparently, and completion should be monitored so the studies are timely (CEW 2011: 48). Though the MWCD was criticized by the CEW for many NCW posts remaining unfilled, it also asked the NCW to fulfil its responsibility in drafting the recruitment rules to prevent further delay. The follow-up report in 2012 suggested that these three issues had been dealt with (CEW, 2012). The CEW has recognized and attempted to increase others’ recognition of the commission and its expertise. The CEW recommended that other ministries should consult the NCW more than they do at present (CEW, 2011: 50). The CEW has itself recognized the work of the NCW in its own work: it has called on the NCW in the past either directly to organize events or to submit evidence to committee hearings or has referred to their research reports and recommendations in the course of committee research. For example, the CEW engaged the NCW in all three ways when they investigated women in detention (CEW, 2001, 2003b).10 On the whole, the CEW’s approach appears to be supportive of the NCW. This cannot be fully attributed to the then chair of the CEW being from the governing party as the MWCD, whose minister was also from the governing party, came in for considerable criticism. As noted above, the NCW has, on the other hand, been scrutinized more regularly by the DRSC for HRD, whose portfolio includes the MWCD which funds the NCW. Thus, in every report looking at the MWCD’s budget allocation and past expenditure (demands for grants), usually every other year or so, there is a section examining the functioning of the NCW.11 The HRD committee’s focus is usually less extensive than the CEW’s as the HRD committee has to examine the functioning of the whole of the MWCD not just the NCW. The focus of scrutiny by the HRD committee of the NCW varies from time to time, from the very fundamental and functional, 10

Further examples include the NCW’s work with the Ministry of Overseas Indian Affairs cited in CEW’s study of Indian women deserted by NRI husbands (CEW, 2007); the NCW’s training material cited in a CEW report on working conditions of women in the police force (CEW, 2014). 11 DRSCs preceded the CEW by a few years (1993 and 1996 respectively). The DRSC for HRD scrutinized the NCW in the few years before the CEW existed. The NCW itself was only established in 1992.

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

231

reconstitution of the commission (in the early days) or the laying of the NCW annual reports in Parliament, to more specific initiatives undertaken by the commission. Though occasionally the NCW receives praise from the HRD committee for its work, the latter is quite exacting and less forgiving than the CEW. At the same time, it recognizes that the NCW is often constrained in authority and resources and has in the past recommended more funds, staffing, and other resources for NCW. Like the CEW it has also criticized the MWCD (as well as other ministries) for not responding promptly or in a sufficiently serious manner to the NCW’s recommendations (DRSC HRD, 2012 on the Indecent Representation of Women Bill). The regularity of the HRD’s examination of the commission might also explain why the CEW’s examination of the NCW, a core part of its mandate, is so infrequent but also points to overlapping jurisdictions of oversight. Committees have an additional tool at their disposal which is supposed to further augment their powers of holding the government to account: the ‘action taken report’ empowers committees to call on the government to report its response and what action it has taken in light of the committees’ recommendations. This report also allows the committees to respond to the government’s replies, such as whether they deem the government response sufficient and if not, what further action they recommend. On average, more than two-thirds of the committees observations and recommendations have been accepted by the government (see Table 6.4), with some exceptions—on the topic of ‘Women in Paramilitary Forces’ (15th Lok Sabha, 9th report) the government accepted only 14 per cent of the CEW’s recommendations and, in turn, the CEW did not accept the majority (57 per cent) of the government’s replies to it. Similarly, on the topic of ‘Women in the Armed Forces’ (15th Lok Sabha, 15th report), the CEW did not accept the majority of the government’s replies (56%). However, the government accepted more than 80 per cent of the CEW’s observations and recommendations on topics such as ‘Working Conditions of Anganwadi Workers’ (15th Lok Sabha, 16th report), ‘Working of National and State Commissions for Women’ (15th Lok Sabha, 17th report), and ‘Victims of Sexual Abuse and Trafficking and Their Rehabilitation’ (15th Lok Sabha, 22nd report). And yet, the relationship between the CEW and the women’s movement has not been strong, perhaps in part because of the fact that the recommendations of the CEW are not radical enough or that these recommendations are accepted but not implemented (discussed later).

12

13

15

13

10

5

3

25

8th report

9th report

11th report

14th report

17th report

18th report

19th report

21st report

122

8

7th report

Total

18

1st report

68%

78%

30%

45%

59%

76%

79%

68%

75%

73%

67%

Observations/ recommendations which have been accepted by the government (no. and percentage)

18

0

1

2

3

2

1

4

2

1

2

10%

-

10%

18%

18%

12%

5%

21%

13%

9%

7%

Observations/ recommendations which the CEW does not desire to pursue in view of the replies of the government (no. and percentage)

32

5

4

4

1

2

3

2

2

2

7

18%

16%

40%

36%

6%

12%

16%

11%

13%

18%

26%

Observations/ recommendations in respect of which replies of the government have not been accepted by the CEW (no. and percentage)

Summary of ‘Analysis of Action Taken by Government’ by the CEW

14th Lok Sabha (2004–9)

Table 6.4

7

2

2

0

3

0

0

0

0

0

0

4%

6%

20%

–

18%

–

–

–

–

–

–

Observations/ recommendations in respect of which final replies of the government are still awaited/ government has furnished interim replies (no. and percentage)

11

1

14

10

4

13

12

9

13

7th report

9th report

11th report

13th report

15th report

16th report

17th report

18th report

22nd report

65%

81%

64%

80%

81%

44%

63%

67%

14%

69%

50%

57%

7

0

0

0

0

0

0

1

2

0

0

4

4%

–

–

–

–

–

–

5%

29%

–

–

29%

37

1

2

2

1

5

5

5

4

3

7

2

23%

6%

14%

13%

6%

56%

31%

24%

57%

19%

50%

14%

12

2

3

1

2

0

1

1

0

2

0

0

8%

13%

21%

7%

13%

–

6%

5%

–

12%

–

–

Source: Compiled by the authors from data provided in individual Action Taken Reports of the CEW available on the Lok Sabha Secretariat website. The online archive for the 13th Lok Sabha is incomplete, with some reports and data missing, and so has been excluded. Note: Percentages may not add up to 100 per cent due to rounding.

102

7

2nd report

Total

8

1st report

15th Lok Sabha (2004–9)

234

Performing Representation

‘Substantive Representation’? The CEW’s Relationship with the Women’s Movement

The institutional presence of women’s committees has not always led to substantive change in the women’s equality agenda. This is definitely the case when it comes to the CEW. Arguably, the CEW could draw strength from and demonstrate accountability to the (diverse and plural) women’s movement but the committee has not developed strong links with women’s groups over time. The CEW appears to suffer from a lack of external visibility, with some organizations knowing very little to nothing about it, even if they are actively involved in legislative advocacy. For example, the leader of a Delhi-based women’s organization at first mistook the CEW for the DRSC on HRD which scrutinizes programmes in the MWCD (interview, May 2015), despite having interacted with other parliamentary committees advocating for women’s interests in particular legislation. Another Mumbai-based women’s NGO did not appear to know about the CEW at all, despite some involvement and interaction with other parliamentary bodies on issue-specific legislative advocacy (interview, March 2014). Rather, women’s groups tend to work more closely with ministry-affiliated committees. For example, feminist economist Bina Agarwal as well as the women’s left-wing group All India Democratic Women’s Association (AIDWA), the Human Rights Law Network and the Housing and Land Rights Network worked closely with the Law and Justice Committee on the Hindu Succession Amendment Act which sought to remove gender inequalities in inheritance rights both within states and arising from different provisions in different states (Jain, 2005). Similarly, extensive consultations were undertaken with women’s movement organizations for the WRB in 2008 such as representatives from AIDWA, NFIW, AIWC, Joint Women’s Programme, Women Power Connect, Guild of Service, among others (Rajya Sabha, 2009). A large number of women’s organizations was closely involved in the drafting of the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill and submitted memoranda and/or deposed before the HRD committee examining the bill (Rajya Sabha, 2002). More often than not the CEW has not been a lead actor in these initiatives, except indirectly through common membership of some MPs or MPs’ multiple roles and links with women’s movement organizations. One notable exception is the memorandum submitted by Margaret Alva, in her stated capacity as then chairperson of the CEW, to the

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

235

HRD committee when it was examining the domestic violence bill in 2002 (Rajya Sabha, 2002: Annexure III: 12).12 Some women MPs we interviewed did, however, suggest a profile for the CEW among women’s groups: a former senior member of the CEW and Congress MP explained how she had received representations from a sex workers’ organization on an issue affecting their community, though it was not clear whether this was related to the work of the CEW or her work as an MP and her position within the party, including her links to the party leadership. Another senior committee member reflected on the CEW’s importance for women’s movement organizations when it was first established: ‘I was not an MP at that time [but] I remember because we were looking at it from outside, from the women’s movement point of view, and we did find CEW an important tool to push our agenda forward. We had some very important discussions’ (MP18, 14 August 2010). In other words, the CEW as an entity has remained low profile in legislative activism, even if some of its members have been closely involved. Effective but Invisible?

The judgement of effectiveness of a committee is dependent upon many factors. This can be based on the issues it chooses to highlight, the number of reports that it produces, whether its recommendations are taken up by the government or not, and, of course, whether it is able to convince its constituency (in the case of the CEW, it is women’s movement and groups) of its effectiveness. One member complained: ‘This is the unfortunate thing … As far as the ministries are concerned, they really do not respond in their reports. Although they come to CEW and respond to that, but in Parliament, as reflected in that ministry’s policies, there’s very little attention paid to those recommendations’ (MP18, 14 August 2010). Thus, we would not fully agree with the epigraph to this chapter—that unlike other committees, the CEW is fighting society not the government. In the work the committee performs, it is clearly attempting to hold the government to account, and in some cases it has to fight to ensure the government is responsive. Committees’ chairs can have a role to play in its visibility—a senior and well-known MP might 12

As noted earlier, the details of Alva’s memorandum are not included in the committee report.

236

Performing Representation

attract higher presence in the media or in the debates in Parliament, and might be able to convince the government to take up the recommendations of the committee she chairs, particularly if she is from the same political party as the government. At the same time, an ineffective chair or one who is seen as too aggressive might antagonize both members of the CEW and the government: ‘What is its [CEW’s] role? Nothing! I have been to only 2–3 meetings—nothing [relevant is put] on the agenda! The chair screams at the civil servants, who don’t want to attend’ (MP24, 6 December 2005). While several members suggested that the CEW did good work, not only was the visibility of that work very low, which adversely affected the impact of committee work in terms of a wider audience, but they also thought the response of the government was mixed at best. One committee member suggested that the CEW functioned well but faced broader institutional resistance and a lack of visibility: ‘I feel that the importance of the committee has been marginalized and downgraded to a great extent. It really doesn’t have the profile that it could have … It’s not because the committee is not working hard, or … because intrinsically there is something wrong in CEW’s functioning’, but it was not taken seriously enough by the government (MP18, 14 August 2010): We have really strong women in this committee. We don’t let them [government officials] through easily. We prepare before we go to committee meetings. We do ask hard questions and, therefore, people do tend to come prepared. For example, we had a discussion with the chiefs of all the representatives of the armed forces, and the role of women in the armed forces, and also in the police. So, the committee was quite firm in their questioning. The thing is that the committee’s work, I’m not disappointed with that at all, because I think the committee is doing its job. It’s picking up on important issues, it’s questioning government and government policy on these issues, and we do have a dialogue amongst ourselves. Therefore, I don’t think there’s anything in the committee’s functioning which you know we may be dissatisfied with. But it’s the response to CEW from the government, how seriously does it take committee’s recommendations, that is really the issue. (MP18, 14 August 2010)

Similarly, another committee member lamented the lack of follow-up or engagement with the CEW’s recommendations, suggesting that the committee did good work and prepared good studies, but asked ‘then

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

237

what?’ in relation to subsequent government action and public awareness (MP37, 7 May 2015).13 As one parliamentary official related, to heighten the visibility of a committee’s work, the chair can hold a press conference or briefing to communicate the committee’s findings and recommendations (interview April 2015; see also information about the Press and Public Relations Service provided by the Lok Sabha)14 or members of that committee can publish op-eds in the media. MPs not on the committee but with strong opinions on legislation can also publish op-eds. For example, Kanimozhi, a DMK MP from Tamil Nadu and member of the CEW, published an op-ed in The Hindu summarizing the recommendations of the HRD committee of which she was not a member, which examined the Juvenile Justice Bill in the Budget Session of 2015, and opposed government proposals to increase the age of consent (Kanimozhi, 2015). What this also shows is that extra performative labour is required of MPs in order to communicate representation. For example, media briefings are necessary to influence public opinion to raise the profile of the issue and to show what work is being done, particularly by committees that are generally closed to the media and the wider collective audience of the electorate. Particularly given its limited visibility due to its marginal role on legislation, this becomes significant for the CEW and its relationship to the already overstretched, overburdened, and under-resourced women’s movement. The CEW has made use of press releases, at least since the start of the 15th Lok Sabha (according to available records on the CEW’s Lok Sabha website).15 These provide a headline view of the important 13

Arguably, this phenomenon is not restricted to this one committee—this is the observation of many other committees also (Goswami, 2002; Jha, 2009; Rodrigues, 2014). As one commentator observed, ‘A lot of recommendations of parliamentary committees go unimplemented. There is still a lot of resistance within the bureaucracy to the reports of the parliamentary committees’ (A. Surya Prakash, cited in Jha, 2009: 5). 14 http://164.100.47.194/our%20parliament/Press%20and%20public% 20relations%20wing.pdf. 15 A Lok Sabha Secretariat study of the Ninth Lok Sabha (1989–1991), predating both the CEW and the DRSCs, made reference to these press releases, including that of the Committee for the Welfare of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Lok Sabha Secretariat, 1992: 74).

238

Performing Representation

recommendations in the committee report although, of course, these are not reflective pieces on its own work. A basic online media archive search for a range of newspapers shows that this information does find its way into the media, but the coverage is often limited to stories informed by these releases.16 Moreover, press releases appear to accompany only the committee’s original reports, not the follow-up (action taken) report. This means that while the original recommendations may be publicized by the media, the subsequent response of the government to the committee’s original recommendations, and the committee’s acceptance or not of this response, receives little to no coverage. This limits public visibility and, therefore, understanding of the extent to which the committee is effective and the government is responsive.

Ways Forward? Our study of the committee system and the CEW has shown that women MPs face a challenge in participating in the work of committees, in maintaining a high profile for the CEW and for their work therein, as well as in building and depending upon support from the women’s movement. The committee structure in Parliament does not help to resolve these challenges; rather it structurally embeds them. If there was a more linked-in approach to committee scrutiny, the CEW would be able to give inputs regarding various areas of policy discussed in other committees: for example, if the Law and Justice Committee has been tasked with the examination of a specific bill addressing some aspect of gender-based discrimination and inequality, the CEW could be invited to participate in a joint committee sitting to hear evidence, ask questions, and participate in the deliberation. Similarly, the DRSC on HRD has in the past scrutinized the government’s gender-budgeting efforts and this has involved calling government officials from not only the MWCD but also other ministries, not least the Ministry of Finance. Representatives of the CEW and the Standing Committee on Finance could be invited to participate in these sittings. 16

This includes online archives for the English language versions of The Hindu, Indian Express, Times of India, Outlook, India Today, Frontline, The Statesman, The Tribune, and NDTV. Among the online archives available on their sites, there is very little coverage of the CEW, especially beyond the press releases. The exception is when a chairperson or member of the committee is mentioned in a media story, and their affiliation with the committee is listed.

The Parliamentary Committee for the Empowerment of Women

239

An important issue discussed in the chapter is that of membership of the CEW; this remains overwhelmingly female. Increasing male membership in the CEW, and mainstreaming gender concerns in all parliamentary committees would be an important step forward in making the Parliament a more gender-sensitive institution (Ballington, 2008: 68). Including a standing item or question in other committees’ protocols to examine the gendered dimension of the subject taken up by a committee might help to institutionalize gender-equality concerns rather than depending on a particularly gender-sensitive committee chairperson, members, or committee clerk or delegating the work of scrutinizing the gender-responsiveness of policy to committees such as the CEW. At the IPU’s tenth meeting of women speakers of Parliament in August 2015, Lok Sabha Speaker Sumitra Mahajan made the following comments in relation to gender, representation, and parliamentary committees: Women Speakers of Parliament … can ensure that more and more women participate in parliamentary committees, fora and groups and help place them in positions of effective leadership in all parliamentary structures … The Women Chairpersons of the Parliamentary Committees and Women Members of Parliaments have an important role towards gender empowerment and equality. (Mahajan, 2015)

The committees are not only one of the important workplaces of Parliament, they are also a barometer of a gender-sensitive Parliament— in terms of membership as well as issues raised in their work. While the CEW is an important symbol of the Indian Parliament’s concern with gender issues, what we have shown is that its institutional position is marginal, which indicates the place of gendered politics in the work of the parliamentary committee system. The CEW shows that the institutional status of gender-focused committees is low, the institutional resources they can garner are limited, and the performative space they are able to occupy is marginal. As a result, the CEW’s profile among women’s groups is not very high, which means that the committee cannot rely on the public support of these groups and women’s networks more generally to further its work and enhance the profile of the committee itself. In the next chapter, we move from parliamentary structures to parliamentary ethics and ask whether women MPs show greater transparency and honesty when dealing with money.

7

Follow the Money Expenses and Expenditure

I didn’t want to join [politics] … but my party members said to me, if honest people don’t join dirty politics, who will clear it up? That is why I joined. (MP15, 16 December 2006)

oney and sex evoke affective responses; when we add politics to the M mix then the combination is often explosive. A narrative emerges that is at the same time normative, sexist, and judgemental. Take for example the case of ‘the dancing MP’: Ahmedabad: A ‘Bhagwat Katha’ programme organised in Gujarat’s Veraval saw BJP MP Poonamben Maadam shaking a leg, but the appalling part of the story is that nearly three crore rupees were showered by the crowd in merely 30 seconds. (Zee News 2015)

What was fascinating was the discrepancy between the reporting of this event and the banality of the performance itself. Video footage1 shows a modestly clad woman MP dancing a traditional dance at an event to collect money for a Hindu organization. Most of the others dancing are men and there is no drinking or inappropriate behaviour in the recording. But the headlines of most newspapers carried the references to the woman MP, with all the predictable sensationalism and comment on her presence and of her dancing.

1

See https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBFSEz-AnNM, last accessed on 1 May 2018. Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0008

Follow the Money

241

Most of the studies about money and politics in India remain focused on corruption (Goetz and Jenkins, 2004). We remember sitting in the office of a senior Congress woman MP in 1994, just after the passage of the 1993 reservation bill for women in panchayats, and overhearing an enthusiastic conversation between two male party workers, which went something like this: ‘Now that we have this quota of 33% for women, corruption will come down by 33% also; women are not at all corrupt.’ This is a view supported by some academic research too; Duflo and Topalova find that villagers are less likely to pay bribes in womenheaded panchayats (2004). Globally also, Dollar, Fisman, and Gatti’s work has shown that women are less corrupt than men (1999), and a greater presence of women in parliament results in a lower level of corruption and is better for democracy: ‘These results suggest that women should be particularly effective in promoting honest government’, they argue (1999: 1). Through a cross-country large sample study, Swamy et al. also concluded that ‘women are less involved in bribery, and are less likely to condone bribe taking. Cross-country data show that corruption is less severe where women hold a larger share of parliamentary seats’ (2000: 1). Esarey and Chirillo have argued that ‘democratic institutions activate the relationship between gender and corruption. These institutions make corruption a risky proposition by shrinking the potential profit, increasing the probability of discovery, and morally stigmatizing the perpetrators’ (2013: 362). However, even here, the implication is that women are more risk-averse than men. Several scholars challenged these meta-level findings and analyses by arguing that it is not inherent public virtues that might make women less corrupt than men but rather institutional opportunity structures and mechanisms and regimes of accountability (Goetz, 2007; Waylen and Southern, 2016). In terms of institutional systems and structures, Gerring and Thacker, find that ‘unitary and parliamentary forms of government help reduce levels of corruption … [and that] centralized constitutions help foster lower levels of political corruption’ (2004: 295), which leads us to reflect upon India’s federal democracy and high levels of corruption—India ranks 79 in the Transparency International Corruption Index 2016.2 Anthropologists have identified corruption as both clearly illegal behaviour and as everyday practice regulated by tacit

2

See http://www.transparency.org/news/feature/corruption_perceptions_ index_2016#table, last accessed on 1 May 2018.

242

Performing Representation

norms which ‘differ significantly from the public codes and official or legal norms’ (Blundo and Olivier de Sardan, 2006: 3). Finally, there is also the performance of gendered leadership persona (see Chapter 8), which shows that women present themselves as timid players in the rough and tumble of political life—servants rather than leaders, which, as Duflo and Topalova show, leads to higher levels of dissatisfaction and lower levels of respect for women in politics (2004). Right-wing analysts such Kishwar argue on the other hand that there is no difference between men and women where corruption is concerned; in India ‘the women who succeed … do so by proving they can outcompete men in the dirt and grime of politics. They can outdo men in all the wheeling and dealing required to win elections’ (2015: 18). In this chapter, while we address issues of corruption in parliamentary politics, we are also interested in a more expansive approach to the money–politics nexus. First, money can be seen as marking influence—for example, an influential politician can more easily mobilize monetary resources from political parties to fund election campaigns. Second, once elected and in Parliament, tabling money and finance bills and memberships of accounts and finance committees are seen as markers of seniority and also of influence. Third, is there gender difference in money spent by MPs on their constituents? Mapping the effect of money on garnering resources for influence in and through their work in Parliament gives us important clues about women’s participation in parliamentary politics. So, in this chapter we examine issues of election expenses, asset accumulation, and money spent on and by MPs through MPLADS. Following the money in this way allows us to know how money is seen and spent on and by women MPs. Our concern is to examine how money plays a part in the gendered life of Parliament.

Monetary Value and Value for Money Other than generalized corruption, two issues seem to be prominent in the public discourse regarding money and politics: first, what role does money play in the making of MPs—what resources do they need for election and how do they mobilize these? Issues of election expenses are particularly important here. Second, how is money spent on and by MPs? Are MPs perceived to be ‘value for money’? That is, are the resources spent on MPs—salaries and perks—of value to the taxpayers and citizens whom they represent? And how do MPs spend money to

Follow the Money

243

develop their constituencies through schemes such as MPLADS? All these are fraught issues and gendered ones. Election Expenses

The 16th parliamentary elections in 2014 were the most expensive in the history of Indian elections. While India has a strong election commission that regulates expenditure on elections, it has limited resources to have substantive coverage. For example, the EC has strict expenditure limits: The law prescribes that the total election expenditure shall not exceed the maximum limit prescribed under Rule 90 of the Conduct of Election Rules, 1961. It would also amount to a corrupt practice under sec 123 (6) of R. P. Act, 1951 … At present the limit of expenditure for a parliamentary constituency in bigger states like U.P, Bihar, Andhra Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh is Rs. 40 lakhs [£39,000] … The limit of election expenses in the above bigger states at the time of 2009 general election was Rs. 25 lakhs for a Parliamentary constituency … Under section 77 of the R.P. Act [sic], 1951, every candidate at an election to the House of the People or State Legislative Assembly is required to keep, either by himself [sic] or by his election agent, a separate and correct account of all expenditure in connection with the selection incurred or authorised by him or his election agent between the date on which he has been nominated and the date of declaration of result, both dates inclusive. Every contesting candidate has to lodge a true copy of the said account within 30 days of result of the election … Under section 10A of the RP Act, 1951, if the Election Commission is satisfied that a person has failed to lodge an account of election expenses within the time and in the manner required by or under that Act and he has no good reason or justification for the failure, it has the power to disqualify him for a period of 3 years for being chosen as, and for being, a member of either House of Parliament. (ECI3)

Some have argued that these are unrealistic limits on election expenditure that make every candidate transgress. Excess expenditure is widespread: ‘In 2013, Gopinath Munde, a well-known parliamentarian and a former minister, admitted that he spent more than 32 times the limit in the last election’ (V. Kumar, 2014). The context of this increasing 3

See http://eci.nic.in/eci_main1/Contesting.aspx, last accessed on 6 October 2017.

244

Performing Representation

expenditure is a liberalized Indian economy. The flow of black money— which accounts for nearly 20 per cent of GDP—has fuelled consumption of goods as well as services, which has also supported the electoral expenses of individual MPs and of political parties. One important item of expenditure is the bribes to the local votebank4 leaders—identity politics congeals influence, which is then paid for either through clientalist relations or through individual and party expenses (see also Wilkinson, 2007: 116). Public policy also becomes a route for channelling money into some sectors rather than others; as Wilkinson explains in the context of nationalization of banks by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, ‘Congress required the newly nationalized banks to switch 40 percent of loans to the “priority” rural and smallscale industry sectors, and Congress politicians then naturally helped determine which cases were priorities and which were not’ (Wilkinson, 2007).5 Under the Modi government too this trend of governmental channelling of public funds in strategic electoral clusters continues. Prime Minister Modi’s demonetization of the Indian rupee in 2016 cited as an objective to undermine the black money–fuelled political finance. As Vaishnav has argued, BJP had calculated that while it can weather a short-term cash drought, the smaller opposition parties would not be able to do so (2016). However, expenses are not a straightforward route to electoral success: DMK performed dismally in the 2014 election despite being a big spender (Quartz, 2014); the same of course is true of the Congress candidates in the 2014 election. Further, such regulatory measures of the EC are targeted at individual candidates, not parties. Under the current rules, parties can exceed the approved spend as long as they do not spend on any specific candidates. The strength of the party system and the weak regulatory system undermines the EC’s attempts to curb electoral spending. In a candid and bold confession, Bahujan Samaj Party supremo Mayawati on Sunday told a press conference in Lucknow that she did take money 4

M. N. Srinivas coined the term ‘vote bank’ in his 1955 essay ‘The Social Structure of a Mysore Village, in Village India edited by Marriott McKim (Chicago: Chicago University Press). 5 ‘Public sector banks’ non-performing loans now amount to around Rs 470,000 million (c. $10 billion), or 16 percent of total loans outstanding, and in the late 1990s three of major nationalized banks [sic.] had to be bailed out by the central government to prevent them going bankrupt’, writes Wilkinson (2007: 117).

Follow the Money

245

from aspirants for party tickets … Claiming that she had succeeded in building her party across the length and breadth of the country through contributions she said, ‘Since the party was strong in states like Uttar Pradesh, we collect donations from our supporters and party volunteers here to build our party in southern states, where we were trying to build a base. (Pradhan, 2006)

So, accessing funds—black or white—and being nominated often goes hand in hand: ‘The Chief Minister of the state of Madhya Pradesh raised a stir when he acknowledged as much in 2010: “Nominations to the Rajya Sabha are sold in an open market, like a commodity in a mandi (wholesale market). It resembles an auction for MPs”’ (Gupta, 2010). The gendered nature of asset accumulation means that women politicians and aspirant MPs are at a disadvantage in this system. Money Matters

Just as money is important for electoral success, money also speaks when we examine the economic value or background of MPs. It has been historically difficult to get politicians to file their assets. Pressure from the EC and the Right to Information (RTI) Act has made things more transparent in this regard. For example, the Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) report notes: 1. Crorepati winners: Out of the 542 winners analysed, 443 (82%) are crorepatis. Out of 521 winners analysed during Lok Sabha 2009 elections, 300 (58%) winners were crorepatis. 2. Party-wise crorepati winners: 237 (84%) out of 281 winners analysed in BJP, 35 (80%) out of 44 winners in INC, 29 (78%) out of 37 winners in AIADMK and 21 (62%) out of 34 winners in AITC have declared assets worth more than Rs. 1 crore.(Association for Democratic Reforms, 2014: 9) In this exclusive rich list, women hardly appear: Out of the 443 crorepatis only 6.7 per cent are women. While at the same time there is a considerable discrepancy between rich male and female MPs, women MPs are not poor; they are just not as rich as their male peers. Of course, seeing MPs as rich (and in many cases criminal) has an effect on the reputation of representatives and of Parliament. There is a clear disconnect between the lives of citizens (60 per cent of the Indian population is poor or very poor) and their MPs.

246

Performing Representation

Money does not only underpin access to politics, it also affects the sustainability of representation—the same Association for Democratic Reforms report points out that ‘132 (29%) out of 450 candidates with assets more than INR 10 crores won in the Lok Sabha 2014 elections, while 70 (22%) out of 320 candidates with assets between INR 5 crores to INR 10 crores and 241 (17%) out of 1443 candidates with assets between INR 1 crore to INR 5 crores won the elections’ (Association for Democratic Reforms, 2014: 10). Specifically, researchers have found that the wealthier the candidate (as indicated by their declaration of assets at the time of nomination), the greater his/her chance of winning. Interest groups and political dynasties that are best placed to marshal resources have grown disproportionately important within parties and, as a consequence, intra-party democracy has withered. (V. Kumar: 2014)

Money speaks in elections and resource mobilization needs personal, private sector, and party support. Kapur and Vaishnav have shown through their study of rerouting of illicit funds between politicians and builders that in India as ‘elections are costly and accountability mechanisms weak, politicians often turn to illicit means of financing campaigns’ (2011: 1). Most women MPs might have less access to these networks of illicit financing, but many do. Criminality, Corruption, and Politics

It was reported after the 2014 elections that the general election of 2014 has seen the highest number of politicians with criminal records being elected to the Indian parliament … An analysis of 541 of the 543 winning candidates by Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) shows that 186 (about 34 percent) of the newly elected MPs have confessed in their election affidavits that they have criminal cases against them … including the ones related to murder, attempt to murder, communal disharmony, kidnapping and crimes against women, against them. (Verghese, 2014)

The figure was 158 (about 30 per cent) in the 2009 Lok Sabha. A gendered analysis of the figures provided by the democracy watch website Mera Neta (‘My Leader’) suggests that women MPs present in this group of MPs with criminal records make up a relatively significant percentage of 20.4 per cent of the total number. Association for Democratic Reforms suggests that politicians with criminal cases against them are more likely

Follow the Money

247

to be elected because they have more funds with which to fight elections, bribe officials, and buy votes. Attempts to bring to account those who are convicted of serious crimes have not always been successful. In its judgment of the Lily Thomas v. Union of India case (along with Lok Prahari vs Union of India) the Supreme Court of India ruled on July 2013 that any politician convicted of crimes that carry a sentence of more than two years should be disqualified. This ruling was addressing the anomaly in the Representation of the People Act, which while disqualifying MPs from Parliament for conviction allows them to continue as MPs if they file an appeal against their conviction within three months: We also hold that the provisions of Article 101(3) (a) and 190(3) (a) of the Constitution expressly prohibit Parliament to defer the date from which the disqualification will come into effect in case of a sitting member of Parliament or a State Legislature. Parliament, therefore, has exceeded its powers conferred by the Constitution in enacting sub-section (4) of Section 8 of the Act and accordingly sub-section (4) of Section 8 of the Act is ultra vires the Constitution (Supreme Court of India, 2013; see also GOI 2014).

On 1 October 2013, Rasheed Masood became the first MP to lose his membership of Parliament under the new guidelines when he was sentenced to four years imprisonment for cheating, forgery, and corruption. While there are no women MPs in this criminal group, two women MLAs, including the chief minister of Tamil Nadu, Jayalalithaa, were also disqualified (see Table 7.1). Most were convicted for disproportionate assets and corruption. The political clout that money brings is also evident in the challenge to this ruling. In an attempt to overturn this decision, the Representation of the People (Second Amendment and Validation) Bill, 2013, was introduced in the Rajya Sabha on 30 August 2013 by the law minister Kapil Sibal. The proposed amendment meant that representatives would not be disqualified immediately after conviction. The Indian government also filed a review petition, which the Supreme Court dismissed. Because of opposition to this bill, the Congress government tried to bypass Parliament; an ordinance was approved by the Cabinet on 24 September 2013 reversing the Supreme Court judgment in the Lily Thomas case. On 2 October 2013, the Cabinet withdrew the ordinance and decided to withdraw the bill because of growing opposition to this in the country. What becomes clear from this story about money and politics is that money buys votes, that MPs have differential access to money and those

Congress

DMK

RJD

RJD

Rasheed Masooda

T. M. Selvaganapathyb

Lalu Prasad Yadavc

Jagdish Sharmac

Lok Sabha MP from Jahanabad, Bihar

Lok Sabha MP from Saran, Bihar

Rajya Sabha MP from Tamil Nadu

Rajya Sabha MP from Uttar Pradesh

Representation

Convicted for four years

Convicted for five years

Convicted for two years

Convicted for four years

Judgment

September 2013

September 2013

April 2014

September 2013

Date of conviction

Disqualified

Disqualified

Resigned

Disqualified

Status

Sources: a Rajya Sabha (2014a); b Rajya Sabha (2014b); c Lok Sabha (2014). See also https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Disqualification_of_convicted_ representatives_in_India, last accessed on 28 July 2015.

Party

List of Elected Representatives Disqualified after Conviction by a Court of Law

Member of Parliament

Table 7.1

Follow the Money

249

who have greater access have greater chances of winning and retaining their seats in Parliament. This is important because there is significant evidence to show that ‘MPs become richer in office. The average assets of 304 MPs who contested in 2004 and then re-contested in 2009 grew 300%’;6 office and money, therefore, have a close connection and MPs will do what it takes to remain MPs in order to increase and consolidate their wealth. So, the implication here is that MPs’ positions allow them to garner (corrupt) resources and increase their assets, and that both men and women MPs are caught up in the web of corrupt practices (see Table 7.2). The lack of regulation of conduct, indeed the undermining of attempts to regulate MP corruption, has led to widespread disillusionment with parliamentary institutions and procedures. The liberalization of the Indian economy and the access to money have gone hand in hand and the increase in the monetary clout of politicians has made them less vulnerable to any public or judicial scrutiny. When this decline in parliamentarians’ reputation is combined with a perception of their unaccountability and further with their lack of decorum in Parliament, questions are increasingly asked about the value for money that the taxpaying citizens get from their MPs. When we see reports of criminality of politicians we do not often see included statistics of harm to women through sexual harassment. And yet, while there is very little information available on the role of sex in nominations, there is some suggestion that sexual harassment forms part of women’s journey to Parliament. The former president of the Samata Party, Jaya Jaitly notes, It’s not quite the casting couch system of Bollywood, but yes, most women do need to use their sexual power, however mildly—batting their eyelids, flattery, beautification—to survive in politics. To get into the race, you need money. And women don’t have money. (Reddy, 2010)

Sex and politics are not often spoken about in public discourse or in the Indian media; usually the scandals that hit the press are about male politicians abusing their power for sexual gain (see, for example, ‘Top 15 Sex Scandals Involving Indian politicians’7): all the 15 listed here 6

See http://infochangeindia.org/component/content/article/70-governance/ features/8534-the-cost-of-indias-mps, last accessed on 1 May 2018. 7 http://www.indiatvnews.com/politics/national/top-15-sex-scandalsinvolving-indian-politicians-13173.html, last accessed on 6 October 2017.

Constituency

Kurnool

Mathura

Kannauj

Betul

Nizamabad

Jamnagar

BardhamanDurgapur

Pilibhit

Anantnag

Lalganj

Kannur

Jaynagar

Butta Renuka

Deol Hema Malini Dharmendra

Dimple Yadav

Jyoti Dhurve

Kalyakuntla Kavitha

Poonamben Hematbhai Maadam

Mamtaz Sanghamita

Maneka Sanjay Gandhi

Mehbooba Mufti

Neelam

P. K. Sreemathi

Pratima Mondal

All India Trinamul Congress

CPI(M)

BJP

JKPDP

BJP

AITC

BJP

TRS

BJP

SP

BJP

Yuvajana Sramika Rythu

Party

Women MPs: Criminal Records and Financial Assets

Candidate

Table 7.2

0

8

1

1

1

0

0

8

2

0

0

1

Criminal Case

Postgraduate

Others

Postgraduate

Graduate, professional

12th Pass

Postgraduate

10th Pass

Graduate, professional

Postgraduate

Graduate

Doctorate

10th Pass

Education

~1 crore+

~1 crore+

~3 crores+

~52 lacs+

~37 crores+

~10 crores+

~17 crores+

~6 crores+

~2 crores+

~28 crores+

~178 crores+

~242 crores+

Total Assets

0

0

~26 lacs+

0

~2 lacs+

0

~6 crores+

~32 lacs+

~10 lacs+

~69 lacs+

~23 crores+

~31 crores+

Liabilities

Barabanki

Sheohar

Supaul

Coochbehar

Sidhi

Fatehpur

Keonjhar

Medinipur

Jhunjhunu

Birbhum

Bahraich

Udupi Chikmagalur

Gauhati

JanjgirChampa

Priyanka Singh Rawat

Rama Devi

Ranjeet Ranjan

Renuka Sinha

Riti Pathak

Sadhavi Niranjan Jyoti

Sakuntala Laguri

Sandhya Roy

Santosh Ahlawat

Satabdi Roy (Banerjee)

Savitri Bai Foole

Shobha Karandlaje

Bijoya Chakravarty

Kamla Patle

BJP

BJP

BJP

BJP

All India Trinamul Congress

BJP

All India Trinamul Congress

BJD

BJP

BJP

AITC

INC

BJP

BJP

0

0

0

8

0

0

0

0

1

0

0

5

6

0

~7 crores+

~11 lacs+

~5 crores+

~3 crores+

~3 crores+

~10 crores+

~37 crores+

~3 crores+

~1 crore+

~8 crores+

~30 crores+

~1 crore+

12th Pass

~1 crore+

PostgGraduate ~1 crore+

Postgraduate

Graduate

Graduate

Postgraduate

Literate

10th Pass

12th Pass

Postgraduate

Graduate, professional

12th Pass

Graduate, professional

Postgraduate

0 (Cont’d)

~3 crores+

~3 crores+

~5 lacs+

~54 lacs+

~57 lacs+

0

0

~1 lacs+

0

0

0

0

~14 lacs+

Rae Bareli

Bankura

Indore

Baramati

Vidisha

Silchar

Jhansi

Tiruppur

Tenkasi

Munger

Meenakshi Lekhi

Sonia Gandhi

Sreemati Dev Varma (Moon Moon Sen)

Sumitra Mahajan

Supriya Sule

Sushma Swaraj

Sushmita Dev

Uma Bharti

V. Sathyabama

Vasanthi M.

Veena Devi

Lok Jan Shakti Party

AIADMK

AIADMK

BJP

INC

BJP

NCP

BJP

All India Trinamul Congress

INC

BJP

BJP

Party

0

0

2

13

1

0

0

0

0

0

0

0

Criminal Case

8th Pass

Postgraduate

Postgraduate

5th Pass

Postgraduate

Graduate, professional

Graduate

Postgraduate

Postgraduate

Others

Graduate, professional

Postgraduate

Education

~3 crores+

~2 crores+

~2 crores+

~1 crore+

~8 crores+

~17 crores+

~113 crores+

~1 rore+

~1 crores+

~9 crores+

~34 crores+

~33 crores+

Total Assets

0

0

~24 lacs+

0

~1 crore+

~65 lacs+

0

~35 lacs+

~10 lacs+

0

~32 lacs+

~18 lacs+

Liabilities

Source: Table prepared by authors based on data from My Neta data. See also http://myneta.info/ls2014/index.php?action=summary&subAction=winn er_crime&sort=candidate#summary.

Chandigarh

New Delhi

Kirron Kher

Constituency

(Cont’d)

Candidate

Table 7.2

Follow the Money

253

are men in political positions and involved in criminal acts such as rape and murder. Politics and sexual abuse are of course also connected in the pogroms against minorities and Dalits—gang rapes and increasing filming and distribution of the images of these violent acts of hate affect the ways in which the public political space is shaped and viewed as hostile for women, closing off possibilities of access. In terms of women MPs, we know very little about their personal stories in this regard, and yet it is the underbelly of politics that is only rarely spoken of even though it is also widely believed that many women politicians are there as a result of their relationships with powerful male party leaders—as wives or as lovers. Ramnika Gupta, a former politician and human rights activist, said in an interview, Everyone has to give something to get into power. Men give money and muscle power, women usually give their bodies. Though ultimately sleeping around to further one’s political career does not matter much if a woman does not have any base in the roots. (Chakraborty, 2016)

The issues of class, family networks, and gendered vulnerabilities are, thus, all barriers for women wanting to enter the political field. However, these are intimately connected with resource mobilization within the party and through leader patronage. If criminality and corruption associated with prospective or elected MPs concern Indian citizens, then so do the performance of these politicians. One important issue that affects the everyday lives of most citizens is whether and how do MPs distribute resources that are at their disposal. ‘A central challenge in political economy is to identify the conditions under which legislators seek to “bring home the pork” to constituents’, write Keefer and Khemani (2009: 99). In the next section, we discuss the MPLADS.

Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme and the Gender Politics of Distribution8 Constituency development has become a critical issue given the problems of declining reputation of Parliament. This issue generated greater 8 In addressing questions regarding MPLADS, one of the key challenges we have faced is the lack of gender disaggregated data. For example, Pal and Das have argued that ‘the degree of competition faced by an MP in the last election, his/her age, and political affiliation significantly affect fund utilisation’ (2010:

254

Performing Representation

salience with the introduction of MPLADS. On 23 December 1993, P. V. Narasimha Rao, Prime Minister of India, announced ‘a new scheme to be called MPs Local Area Development Scheme’ under which ‘each member of parliament will have the freedom to suggest to the district collector works to be done not exceeding INR 1 crore per year within his or her constituency’.9 The justification given for introducing this scheme was to strengthen constituency development in accordance with the 73rd and 74th Amendment Acts which gave local government greater powers. The MPLAD Scheme allows MPs to recommend works of developmental nature with emphasis on the creation of durable community assets based on the locally felt needs to be taken up in their constituencies: The Member of Parliament Local Area Development Division is entrusted with the responsibility of implementation of Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme (MPLADS). Under the scheme, each MP has the choice to suggest to the District Collector, for works to the tune of INR 5 Crores [up from the initial 1 crore] per annum to be taken up in his/her constituency. The Rajya Sabha Member of Parliament can recommend works in one or more districts in the State from where he/ she has been elected.10

The MPLADS is a Plan Scheme fully funded by the Government of India. The Committee of Privileges (10th Lok Sabha) in their 5th Report (presented to the house on 8 March 1996) inter alia recommended that the Standing Committee of the house be constituted to monitor the MPLAD Scheme. An ad hoc committee on MPLADS (Lok Sabha) consisting of 23 members was constituted for the first time during 4th session of the 12th Lok Sabha (that is, in early January 1999) to monitor the scheme and to consider complaints of Lok Sabha members. Presently, there are 24 members in this committee. As Wilkinson points

63). However, gender-based analysis of MPs’ decision-making on MPLADS is absent from this analysis. The data presented here is collected and collated from the huge amount of data made available by the Ministry of Statistics and Programme Implementation (see http://mplads.nic.in/). We would like to thank Julie Ann Robinson for her help in extracting and collating this data. 9 Members of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme, available at http://164.100.47.194/our%20parliament/Member%20of%20Parliament% 20Local%20Area.pdf , last accessed on 15 May 2018. 10 See http://mplads.nic.in/.

Follow the Money

255

out, it was the ‘national-level politicians, worried about being frozen out of the local patronage loop by opposition-controlled state governments, [who] forced the extremely weak Narasimha Rao government to establish a whole new government program that would give members of the national parliament personal control over a large portion of the centrally funded development pie’ (Wilkinson, 2007: 121). Together with the development funds available to the Members of Legislative Assemblies (MLAs), MPLADS provide a significant clientalist resource for the MPs, which is disbursed through district administration (Wilkinson, 2007: 126). As per guidelines of MPLADS, promulgated in 2012, the annual entitlement of INR 5 crores is released in two equal instalments of INR 2.5 crore each, by the Government of India directly to the district authority (DA) of the nodal district of the MP concerned. Funds released to the DA by the Government of India are non-lapsable; funds left unspent in the districts are carried forward for utilization in the subsequent years and can, therefore, accumulate rapidly. The guidelines also set down that the work of MPLADS is to be completed within 18 months from the date of demitting office in case of Rajya Sabha MPs or dissolution of the Lok Sabha (Kumar, 2013: 2). The projects under the scheme are approved and monitored by the DA of the district where they take place. The implementing agency is also selected by the DA. Under the RTI Act of 2005, any citizen of India can obtain information about the MPLADS spend. And finally, the ‘aesthetic of ownership’ of the projects completed is displayed through a plaque ‘permanently’ marking the name of the MP and the project (Blair, 2014: 170). As Keefer and Khemani note, The MPLADS program is unique in the degree to which it can isolate the contribution of a legislator’s own efforts to constituency-specific benefits … First, the amounts available to spend are independent of legislator effort and are identical across legislators … Second, spending on public works under the program must be initiated by the legislator, acting alone, and is identified with the legislator’s name through information placards located at the project site. Third, unlike other public works legislation in India, the MPLADS program allows national legislators to take credit for local public works … Fourth, successful initiation of MPLADS projects by legislators requires substantial effort on their part. (2009: 100)

This is an important lens with which to understand and judge the work that women MPs do in and for their constituencies. The questions

256

Performing Representation

that we seek to address in this section go to the heart of parliamentary politics in India today. An analysis of MPLADS allows us to reflect on whether these development funds are key elements of competitive populism, or of local development, or of both. Such an analysis also allows us to ask in whose interest is party loyalty—the MP or the citizens? Evidence of underspend of MPLADS suggests interesting answers to this question. This analysis helps us reflect upon the gendered nature of development spending and responsibility—do women MPs care more for their constituencies? And finally, given the large underspends of these funds, the contradictions that underlie the role of the MPs as executors of development funds, and the mismanagement and corruption attached to them we wonder whether MPLADS should be abolished. To address these questions, we examine the levels of MPs’ engagement with MPLADS scheme with a view to understanding the following: 1. Does MPLADS provide a ready source of public resources to allow women and men MPs to establish a record in their constituency, and in so doing provide a degree of autonomy from their parties? Conversely, do parties dictate how MPs should be spending their money or are there entirely different considerations at play? 2. Is MPLADS money more significant to sustain women MPs in the light of narratives that suggest women MPs suffer from limited financial resources? 3. On what do women MPs spend their MPLADS money given the suggestion that there are clear gendered differences in public spending priorities among men and women elected representatives? 4. Do women MPs signal representative claims through the expenditure of MPLADS money and, if so, how? Are these premised on identity as specifically women MPs or some other identity claims? 5. Do different women MPs spend MPLADS funds differently depending upon their political ambitions and affiliations? Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme and the Question of Governance

Questions have been raised about MPLADS from the start: was this a democratic scheme when one MP could decide where this significant amount of money would be spent without consulting the local governance structures on the ground? Or, as Keefer and Khemani have

Follow the Money

257

argued, are constituency development funds a democratic way of ‘bringing home the pork’ for the constituency of the legislators (2009)? This debate is a fundamental one. On the one hand, there is concern that MPLADS is the executive arm of MPs and undermine local governance bodies. On the other, MPLADS spending is seen as a benchmark for MPs’ constituency work and, therefore, accountability. MPLADS’ constitutional position was challenged and then resolved by a Supreme Court judgment in 2010. In 1999 Bhim Singh of the Jammu and Kashmir National Panthers Party challenged the constitutional validity of MPLADS in court on grounds of contravention of state powers by the centre. The Supreme Court’s verdict in 2006 was that ‘though MPs have been given a “seemingly executive function”, their role is limited to recommending works and implementation is the responsibility of the district authorities. It decided that there is no removal of checks and balances since these are duly provided and the guidelines of the scheme have to be strictly adhered to’ (Sivaramakrishnan, 2010: 43) and that, therefore, there is no hindrance in the way of implementing MPLADS legislation. However, this judgment has not convinced democratic theorists and activists about the place of MPLADS in India’s constitutional arrangement: scholars have argued that the ‘MPLADS scheme violates the doctrine of the separation of powers, which is arguably a foundational principle of the Indian constitution’ (Jayal, 2004: 1; see also Mohanty, 2004). There is a continuing concern that development schemes such as the provision of drinking water, sanitation including public toilets, roads and pathways, animal care, or local public facilities, which should be provided by local governance bodies, through MPLADS come under the purview of the MPs instead, weakening the role of the local government (Jayal, 2004: 44). Objections have also been raised against an extension of the remit of this executive function of MPs in relation to specific government schemes meant for the local development governance: for example, in case of housing, MPs have pressed for a rule that ‘each MP should be allowed to select a fixed number of house beneficiaries under the centrally financed Indira Awaas Yojana subsidized housing scheme, to prevent MLAs alone from selecting who gets houses’ (Nayak, Saxena, and Farrington 2002: 27). As Sivaramakrishnan argues, ‘In such a case the panchayats and the urban local bodies, notwithstanding the constitutional recognition and elaborate stipulations of reservation for women, scheduled castes (SCs)/scheduled tribes (STs) and Other Backward Classes (OBCs) will remain as empty shells without substance’ (2010: 46). Another way of

258

Performing Representation

undermining local government is through ‘pooling’, which allows MPs to contribute small amounts towards finishing of local projects, which allows their name to go on the plaques for the wider projects for cheap (Blair, 2014: 186), projecting the ‘aesthetics of ownership’ marking the presence of the MP in the constituency. Especially in the context of the issue of election expenses raised in the earlier sections, MPLADS can be seen as a subsidy to incumbent MPs to the detriment of other candidates: Gopal Jayal has noted, For the state to finance the MP to nurse his [sic] constituency is surely a covert and even pernicious way of providing advance funding for the election campaign five years hence. Indeed, it cannot be treated as a form of state funding for election campaigns because this is, in principle, meant to be provided to all candidates, not just incumbent ones. (2004: 2).

This subsidy is particularly problematic in the light of evidence that MPLADS expenditure follows ‘a clear electoral cycle, with immediate payoffs being made after an election to reward core supporters for their support, and then a wider number of grants being approved for pivotal groups of voters as the next election grew nearer. Parties seem to reward both core and marginal groups of voters’ (Wilkinson, 2007: 126, 128) through MPLADS, which is funded by the national exchequer.11 This is something that was noted in the 2011 comptroller and auditor general’s (CAG’s)report on MPLADS: Delay in recommendation by MPs: In respect of 34,023 works pertaining to 64 DAs out of 70 test-checked DAs in 15 States/UTs (42.85 per cent of total recommended works in these districts), recommendations were furnished by MPs with delays beyond the prescribed time limit of 90 days from the commencement of the financial year and the MPs continued recommending the works up to the end of the financial year. (GOI, 2011: 9)

Finally, in terms of accountability of MPs on the expenditure of resources through MPLADS, it has been argued that ‘it is not the MP but the district officer carrying out the will and recommendation of the MP, who is held accountable’ and this is leading to misspending of funds (GOI, 2011). Jayal has argued, 11 However, as Mohinder Kumar has argued, research has also shown that ‘although a declining proportion of the cumulative amount unspent is not an ideal state requiring even and uniform allocation of funds, it may not be straight away termed as accumulation by LS MPs during the initial period for political gains’ (2010: 102).

Follow the Money

259

Insofar as the MP is now involved with the nitty-gritty of the implementation of development programmes, his performance also becomes subject to scrutiny by a nodal ministry, by parliamentary committees, by the comptroller and auditor-general. So the roles are reversed: the administration, rather than the legislature, exercises control and the oversight function; and the independence of the legislator is compromised. (2004: 3)

Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme Expenditure

In terms of the spending areas of MPLADS, Blair identifies the following: roads, electrification, drinking water, public buildings (which can cover a wide range of structures not meant for government use), irrigation, and health and family welfare (2014: 173–4). One problematic area of spending of MPLADS funds is that of ‘community buildings’; while these could be really important as public spaces—as a panchayat member said to us, ‘I prefer the meetings to take place in the panchayat ghar (house) rather than the sarpancha’s home, where I am made to feel low caste’ (Rai, 2007: 74–5)—very often these can also become the social space of the dominant social and religious groups, excluding others from making use of these (Blair, 2014: 178). Do women spend on different things? Chattopadhyay and Duflo have noted that a quotabased increase in the number of women in panchayats has led to an increase in spending on ‘infrastructure that is directly relevant to the needs of their own genders’ such as water (2004: 1409); an MP from Rajasthan told us, In the first year in Parliament, I provided drinking water—there was drought in Rajasthan, which affected especially women, who had to walk 3–4 km to get water; they complained to me—I was also worried and wondered how can I help? I spent 90% of my MPLADS [funds] on water. This year it has rained and things have improved, but I am still keeping MPLADS [funds] for water and rural employment diversification. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

Another MP said she focused on three or four major problems for her constituents: There is a very tough geographical terrain——half the population lives on an island in Koshi River which is prone to flooding—it changes its courses very often causing havoc—the ‘Tehri Dam’ between Nepal and India is also in my constituency—we have to clean up the river and there

260

Performing Representation

is water logging—sluice gates need cleaning—I have been working on this. (MP32, 1 March 2006)

However, even in these accounts of MPLADS spend, constituents do not seem to have been consulted; the MP is either alert to their needs or the needs of a group the MP chooses to support. Local party units are used as sounding boards by some MPs for deciding what to recommend for action under the scheme: My party workers consult with people and report back to me and when I go to my constituency and sometimes people petition me directly; and then I take decision … some people used to ask for kuchaa [not tarmacked] roads—I have used my MPLADS for schools, roads, and water … so much so that I am called road wali bai [road-making sister]. (MP27, 15 July 2009)

However, the 2011 CAG report made clear that ‘there was no record to indicate that local requirements were considered systematically with relative importance being explored and weighed properly. The process of selection of works lacked transparency and objectivity to that extent’ (GOI, 2011: 9). One of the issues that might influence MPLADS expenditure then could be how active political parties are on the ground— would cadre-based parties spend more than mass membership parties? Would parties in power encourage their MPs to spend more than those that are not? Or vice versa? Would regional parties spend more than national parties? The evidence from the 16th Parliament is complex: Among the major political parties (having more than 10 members in Parliament), MPs of All India Trinamool Congress (TMC) and All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) outperform others … It is interesting to see that TMC and AIADMK are in majority in their States—West Bengal and Tamil Nadu respectively. This however, is not true in general. For instance, Biju Janta Dal (BJD) enjoys the same privilege in Odisha. But the average expenditure of the State’s MPs, the majority of whom belong to the BJD, lies way below the national average. (Bansal, 2015)

After a rape and murder case in Badaun, Uttar Pradesh, Prime Minister Modi’s intervention in the violence against women debate was to suggest that MPs use MPLADS to build toilets in their constituencies so that girls did not have to go to the fields to relieve themselves.12 12

Two girls, who were cousins, aged 14 and 15, were found hanging from a mango tree on 28 May 2014 in Badaun, Bihar. They had gone for toilet out

Follow the Money

261

Following him, the minister of women and child development, Maneka Gandhi, said, ‘Such incidents occurred because very few support services were available to women victims … I am happy to dedicate all my MPLAD funds to the making of toilets’ (The Economic Times, 2014). The BJP Rural Development Minister, Nitin Gadkari, wrote to all Rajya Sabha and Lok Sabha MPs, ‘It is expected that additional funding will enable construction of more toilets. There is an urgent need to converge additional financial resources from all sources. The MPLADS is one of the possible sources of additional support’ (The Times of India, 2014b). Apart from the fact that such instrumental responses to gender inequality and gender-based violence are highly suspect—not addressing the gendered nature of violence and the importance of and policy support for gender equality—such directed funding decisions also undermine the relationship between MPs and their constituents as well as between panchayats and the Parliament. The balance between a consultative approach to MPLADS spending and the decision-making role that an MP can take in this regard is also an issue without easy answers. While one could assume that these funds might be a source of influence for the MPs, the underutilization of these funds has plagued the scheme from the start and this continues to remain the case. Once the media had raised the profile of MPLADS because of the Supreme Court judgment noted earlier, there was a greater awareness of these resource funds and greater scrutiny of how they are spent and by whom. A state-wise analysis of the MPLADS spend shows interesting variations: the top 10 states that have spent over 90 per cent of their allocation include many of the North East states (Nagaland is the outlier here) with strong social networks; among the major and economically developed states, Gujarat makes the cut at 96.51 per cent of utilization of MPLADS over release of funds, with Punjab (96.41 per cent) and Kerala (94.51 per cent) close behind (Table 7.3). Among the lowest spenders is Uttar Pradesh (86.83), one of the biggest states in the country, and Daman and Diu (83.89), one of the smallest UTs (Table 7.4). in the fields on the evening of 27 May and did not return. The Crime Bureau of Investigation initially suggested that they had committed suicide. It was later revealed that they had been gangraped and murdered. Pappu Yadav, an MP, was arrested in this case together with others. See https://timesofindia.indiatimes. com/city/lucknow/Badaun-girls-hanging-case-Main-accused-Pappu-Yadavarrested/articleshow/50745219.cms, last accessed on 15 May 2018.

494.00

38.00

38.00

19.00

38.00

133.00

19.00

38.00

19.00

19.00

Gujarat

Tripura

Manipur

Mizoram

Arunachal Pradesh

Delhi

D&N Haveli

Meghalaya

A&N Islands

Lakshdweep

17.50

20.00

38.00

20.00

91.50

38.00

19.00

38.00

26.50

476.00

24.21

23.32

39.42

21.31

113.51

38.48

19.19

38.87

30.09

511.33

46.48

77.60

50.41

33.55

262.64

44.56

19.19

38.40

30.52

627.00

30.75

21.82

43.59

27.11

126.65

38.40

19.19

38.40

30.52

517.02

20.99

22.34

40.65

21.29

97.29

38.40

19.19

38.10

26.47

459.37

119.94

111.70

106.97

106.45

106.33

101.05

101.00

100.26

99.89

96.51

94.23

55.55

9.52

60.29

80.57

0.00

14.01

6.69

44.24

0.98

Unspent Expenditure Percent of Amount Amount Amount Released Balance of Utilization Incurred Recommended Sanctioned Available by GOI Entitlement over Based on Based on based on the with Interest based on MPs’ of Amount Amount Amount Recommend based on Entitlement Released Constituency Sanctioned Available Individual Entitlement of of (Amount in by GOI (Amount in with Projects (in Constituency Constituency INR Crores) Interest (in INR Crores) INR Crores) (in INR (Amount in INR Crores) Crores) INR Crores)

Source: Patil (2015), using MPLADS data from Ministry of Statistics and Programme Implementation, Government of India, available at http://164.100.129.134/mplads/Default.aspx.

Entitlement of Constituency (Amount in INR Crores)

Top 10 Highest Spending States and Union Territories (2015–16)

State

Table 7.3

1520.00

Uttar Pradesh

1505.00

739.00

506.50

384.00

34.00

256.00

245.50

19.00

87.50

1545.70

751.27

526.98

394.15

35.40

261.03

251.31

19.47

91.16

1753.11

906.92

563.57

426.86

36.07

251.90

264.02

26.97

98.54

Amount Amount Released Recommended Available by GOI Based on the with Interest Based on MPs’ Recommend Based on Entitlement Individual Entitlement of Projects (in of Constituency (Amount in Constituency INR Crores) (in INR INR Crores) Crores)

1439.58

742.73

509.33

375.52

35.10

236.80

226.12

15.99

85.61

Amount Sanctioned Based on Amount Available with Interest(in INR Crores)

1306.76

634.20

432.75

327.60

28.71

Is there

207.07

15.94

70.23

Expenditure Incurred Based on Amount Sanctioned (Amount in INR Crores)

86.83

85.82

85.44

85.31

84.44

84.38

84.35

83.89

80.26

Percent of Utilization over Amount Released by GOI

Source: Patil (2015), using MPLADS data from Ministry of Statistics and Programme Implementation, Government of India, available at http://164.100.129.134/mplads/Default.aspx.

760.00

Bihar

38.00

Goa

516.93

266.00

Assam

Karnataka

266.00

Jharkhand

399.00

19.00

Daman & Diu

Odisha

95.00

Entitlement of Constituency (Amount in INR Crores)

Lowest Spending States and Union Territories (2015–16)

Uttarakhand

State

Table 7.4

45.02

0.08

2.62

17.65

0.77

0.02

238.94

66.55

119.74

Unspent Balance of Entitlement of Constituency (Amount in INR Crores)

264

Performing Representation

Overall, however, we find that the rates of expenditure by MPs on their constituencies continue to generate public outrage: A year after they took office, 298 of 542 members of the 16th Lok Sabha—India’s lower house of parliament—have not spent a rupee from the INR 5 crore that is set aside annually for them to develop their constituencies, according to data made available to IndiaSpend. (Patil, 2015)

Similarly, The Times of India reported, More than eight months after the 16th Lok Sabha was constituted, Prime Minister Narendra Modi, his MP colleagues in the government, as well as most of the opposition MPs in the Lok Sabha have not utilised a single rupee from out of their designated MP Local Area Development funds. (Mathur, 2015)

While many MPs underspend their allocated MPLADS funds, individual MPs show variations in spending. Of the top 10 individual spenders, only 1—Sandhya Roy—is a woman MP (see Table 7.513). When we did a gendered analysis of the spending of three states—Uttar Pradesh, West Bengal and Gujarat—we did not find a great deal of difference between spending by men and women MPs. Of course, this could be because of party influence or show that women and men spend on different projects, but the fact remains that gender does not seem to be a variable in terms of the underspend of constituency development funds. Why do MPs underspend? While the popular view is that this is because they do not care about their constituency or about their constituents, there is another side to the story too. As a senior parliamentary bureaucrat explained: Members of Parliament play only a recommendatory role. They identify requirements of the people and recommend projects to the DA, who is responsible for sanction and timely execution of projects. If there is any delay in execution of the projects, fund release to the constituency is held up due to delays in furnishing of utilization and audit certificates to the central ministry by the DA. (Interview, 19 October 2016)

Another senior woman MP had this to say about the pressures that MPLADS has brought with it: When I became an MP in the Lok Sabha, editorials were written that I was busy in everything else except my constituency—it upset me quite a 13

http://www.indiatvnews.com/politics/national/half-of-lok-sabha-mpsspent-rs-0-on-their-constituencies-29653.html.

2.5

5

2.5

5

Arunmozhithevan AIADMK, A. Cuddalore, Tamil Nadu

Sandhya Roy

AITC, Medinipur, West Bengal

2.5

2.5

AIADMK, Vellore, Tamil Nadu

Senguttuvan B.

2.5

2.5

BJP, Sarguja (ST), Chattisgarh

Kamaibhan Singh Marabi

2.7

BJP, BhiwaniMahendragarh Haryana

Dharambir

5.7

5.8

4.9

3.3

3

5.7

5.1

4.9

2.6

2.9

4.4

2.2

2.5

2.4

2.5

88

88.5

98.1

94.9

98.7

(Cont’d)

0.6

0.3

0.1

0.1

0.2

Unspent Expenditure Percent of Amount Amount Amount Released Balance of Utilization Incurred Recommended Sanctioned Available by GOI Entitlement of over Based on Based on Based on the with Interest Based on MPs’ Constituency Amount Amount Amount Recommend Based on Entitlement (Amount in Released Sanctioned Available Individual Entitlement of INR Crores) by GOI (Amount in with Projects (in of Constituency Interest (in INR Crores) (Amount in Constituency INR Crores) INR Crores) (in INR INR Crores) Crores)

2.5

Entitlement of Constituency (Amount in INR Crores)

MPLADS Individual High Spenders (2015–16)

State

Table 7.5

5

Om Prakash Yadav

7.4

6.5

4.9

3.3

5.1

7.4

4.9

3.8

3.3

5

3.5

3.8

1.9

2

2.1

70

75.5

76

80.8

84.5

3.5

1.2

0.6

0.5

0.4

Source: Patil (2015), using MPLADS data from Ministry of Statistics and Programme Implementation, Government of India, available at http://164.100.129.134/ mplads/Default.aspx.

7

5

5

Asaduddin Owaisi AIMIM, Hyderabad, Telangana

BJP, Siwan, Bihar

2.5

2.5

AIADMK, Arakkonam, Tamil Nadu

Hari G.

2.5

2.5

PDP, Baramullah, J&K

Muzaffar Hussain Baig

2.5

AIADMK, Nilgiris (SC), Tamil Nadu

Gopalakrishnan C.

Unspent Expenditure Percent of Amount Amount Amount Released Balance of Utilization Incurred Recommended Sanctioned Available by GOI Entitlement of over Based on Based on Based on the with Interest Based on MPs’ Constituency Amount Amount Amount Recommend Based on Entitlement (Amount in Released Sanctioned Available Individual Entitlement of INR Crores) by GOI (Amount in with Projects (in of Constituency Interest (in INR Crores) (Amount in Constituency INR Crores) INR Crores) (in INR INR Crores) Crores)

2.5

Entitlement of Constituency (Amount in INR Crores)

(Cont’d)

State

Table 7.5

Follow the Money

267

bit—how to balance what interests me with consistency work of opening this and closing that! I found that really distressing. And then I had to get into smaller issues. Drinking water for a village, for example—these really don’t matter to me. It is not the job of a MP—it is the position of the local MLA to do this. So that was one problem … then there are the pressure of groups based on Muslim, Christian, caste groups—everybody is hankering after a piece of a small pie—the speaker has said the MPLADs should be scrapped and I agree—there is corruption in them—people take a cut for themselves and so much unhappiness is generated. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

Here, MP32 raises an important and interesting question that elides with some concerns that were raised in the debate about the constitutional validity and the role of the MPs in relation to MPLADS. What are the boundaries of local- and national-level governance regimes? What is the role of MPs—can an executive role in terms of taking decisions about social investment be appropriate for a legislative actor? Where do blurred lines of authority between a constituency MP and a local block or zilla or panchayat begin and end? ‘I tell the people the truth—most of the problems are not related to the work of the MPs—they need to go to the MLAs for housing, transport [and such like]—there is so much corruption—that is what I do, to clean up their problems’, said another woman MP (MP32, 01 March 2006). The underspending of MPLADS funds is also influenced by the fact that parties take voting blocs for granted. As Keefer and Khemani argue, Voter attachment influences legislator effort to build personal constituencies in several ways. Their common thread is that the more important parties are to voters, the more difficult it is to sway voters’ electoral choices with constituency service and the easier it is for party leaders to favour candidates who advance party goals, even if the candidates are less effective at providing constituency service. (2009)

‘Bringing in the pork’ then becomes an incentive for those who are in marginal seats or in areas where the parties want to extend their influence. Other issues raised are about implementation of schemes and accountability. For example, the comptroller and auditor general of India in his audit reports pertaining to 1998 and 2001 has pointed out that there were huge unspent balances with implementing agencies; non-submission of utilization certificates and levying of administrative charges by implementing agencies; incomplete and abandoned works, failure to maintain asset registers; sanctioning of funds as grants/ loans; weak monitoring mechanism, and so on (para 59 ad hoc inquiry

268

Performing Representation

committee report laid on table of the house during 14th Lok Sabha on 14 March 2006). The unease about this scheme was further enhanced when a TV company exposed corruption: ‘Members of both Houses of Parliament seemed stunned today by another scandal exposed by a TV channel showing the MPs taking bribe for handing over project work under the MP Local Area Development Scheme (MPLADS)’ (Tribune News Service, 2005). In this exposé, members of Parliament belonging to both houses were shown indulging in irregularities in sanctioning development works under the MPLADS scheme. The Ethics Committee of Rajya Sabha recommended expulsion of one member, in response to which on 21 March 2006, Rajya Sabha adopted a motion expelling the member from the membership of the house. A committee of Lok Sabha constituted to inquire into the matter recommended that four members of Lok Sabha be reprimanded and also suspended from the membership of the house for a specified period. On 20 March 2006, Lok Sabha adopted a motion agreeing with the recommendation of the committee (Lok Sabha, 2006). However, scholars working on MPLADS suggest that ‘the mischief emerging from MPLADS relates more to the use of funds for fuelling patronage machines than actual corruption’ (Blair, 2014: 188). One could argue that MPLADS could strengthen the fraying links between MPs and their constituencies. If some MPs, as mentioned earlier, find it difficult to spend their MPLADS funds because of identity politics and difficulties in negotiating with local governance structures, then there are others who explicitly make a gendered argument for closer connection between women MPs and their constituencies: I think the MP’s position is not only to speak [for their constituency] but to get the work done. Women are the most effective MPs; men, when they are elected, they shift their HQ and their families to Delhi, so their presence in the constituencies is not there. But when women get elected, the husband and family doesn’t shift, so she spends more time in the constituencies because she wants to go back every weekend and festival. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

So, gendered norms tie some women MPs more closely to their constituencies. Despite the largely negative report by the CAG and continuing issues of mismanagement and corruption associated with MPLADS, Pal and Das have concluded that ‘a higher level of awareness of general citizens

Follow the Money

269

and better law and order conditions in states restrict the MPs from misusing funds to gain political mileage’ (2010: 63). Keefer and Khemani’s study corroborates this: ‘Apparently driven by this media attention … by the end of the period 1999 to 2003, the median MP office had disbursed 85% of accumulated funds. All but 32 out of 543 increased their utilization of MPLADS by at least 20 percentage points; most increased it by more than 45 percentage points’ (2009: 101). MPLADS, thus, enabled MPs to facilitate building of wells, borewells, community centres, small bridges on rivulets, community shelters, library buildings, and the list goes on based on particular needs in respective constituencies. Value for Money

Is the parliamentary system value for money for the Indian taxpayer?14 The value for money discourse focuses on the salaries, accommodation, travel, and general perks provided to MPs. As the parliamentary expenses of MPs in the United Kingdom show (Waylen and Southern, 2016), it is also attached to the perception of unaccountability of MPs in times of real economic fragility and hardship for most citizens of the country. The fact that MPs are often perceived to become richer in office also leads to public debates about the quality of MPs—the ‘decline of parliament’ thesis consolidates in the face of overwhelming evidence that MPs are engaging in criminal activities to use their position to become rich and stay rich. And finally, the underutilization and inefficiency of MPLADS also creates a discourse of uncaring MPs. Media attention on MPs’ salaries and perks has been considerable. The fact that RTI requests allow media organizations and concerned citizens to get more information about MPs’ expenditure has also increased awareness of the issue of ‘value for money’ of MPs. For example, it was reported in the press that on August 27, 2010, Indian Members of Parliament voted themselves a threefold hike in their basic salary, from INR 16,000 to INR 50,000 and doubled the constituency and office expense allowances to 40,000 each. MPs will thus receive an assured income of INR 1.3 lakh (a salary of INR 14 The term ‘taxpayer’ is often used in state discourse to provide validity to citizenship claims; women are often excluded from this language of entitlements as so many are not taxpayers in their own right. However, given the high levels of poverty as well as the black economy, neither are most men.

270

Performing Representation

50,000 plus constituency allowance of INR 40,000 and office or stationary allowance of INR 40,000) a month … An MP’s wage is tax-free and comes with additional perquisites such as free petrol, free telephone calls and free housing, some of it in the most expensive real estate in the country’s capital. Most household expenses—furniture, electricity, water, laundry—is also paid for by the State. MPs can travel anywhere in the country by rail, first class, and get 34 free air tickets for themselves or a companion a year. Spouses of MPs can travel free by air from their residence to New Delhi eight times a year when Parliament is in session and unlimited number of times by rail. MPs also get a daily allowance of INR 1,000 per day to attend Parliament. (The Hindu, 2010)

The outrage in the report at the self-aggrandizement and lack of accountability of the MPs is palpable: ‘So if you try to add all the perks etc conservative CTC (Cost to the Country) of an MP is close to INR 35 Lakhs ($70k), excluding the cost of maintaining security guards, the cost of lifelong pension, insurance, sarkari [government owned] vehicle!!’15 The details of the various perks support the narrative of MP voracity and fuel indignation. Understandably, this outrage becomes even more pronounced when the issue of representation is brought into focus—‘There is also the question of proportion—comparing the salary of MPs with the people they claim to represent. According to one calculation, after the hikes of the MPs’ salaries, perks and allowances, they will earn 68 times more than what an average person earns annually’.16 The discrepancy between the wages of the average electors and those elected to represent them does underline the issue of representativeness. This is of course not just an Indian issue but also a concern in most countries: ‘Japanese policymakers earn 6.6 times the national GDP per capita—in Italy, it’s 9.3 times more.’ In Kenya this figure is much more like the Indian: Last month, Kenyan MPs finally bowed to pressure about a pay cut from $120,000 a year to $75,000 (as well as a one-off $59,000 grant to buy a vehicle). For many, the moral legitimacy of earnings is closely tied to national wealth. The average salary in Kenya is $1,700 a year (£1,116), making public officials appear extremely divorced from the experiences of their electorate. (Chalabi, 2013) 15 https://www.bemoneyaware.com/blog/pay-and-perks-of-indian-mpmla-and-prime-minister/, last accessed on 14 June 2018. 16 https://www.bemoneyaware.com/blog/pay-and-perks-of-indian-mpmla-and-prime-minister/, last accessed on 14 June 2018.

Follow the Money

271

We could, of course, argue that a representative’s wealth should not matter to the way they perform as MPs; the sense of fairness is, however, undermined, especially as there is a non-accountable public funding of high salaries in contexts of poverty and deprivation. Finally, ‘Much of the criticism of the salaries of MPs springs from the fact that the electorate—which incidentally puts them in power—does not think they are doing a good job. It has been pointed out that there is very little debate on most bills’ (Chalabi, 2013). As year-on-year disruption in Parliament is seen to increase and the circulation of images of MPs ‘behaving badly’ affects the business conducted by Parliament, the question is increasingly asked whether MPs provide value for money. We value certain performances because of their effectiveness, others because of their affect. Valuing (or not) MPs and their work is part of our understanding of democracy itself—valuation is also a democratic act that all citizens engage in by exercising judgement about their representatives. The quality of parliamentary debate, passing of bills and conduct befitting democratic representatives might all be seen as valuable skills and outcomes. When MPs are seen to be eroding parliamentary norms, disrupting parliamentary ceremony and ritual and wasting parliamentary time, then their value to Indian democracy is brought into question; Parliament’s reputation is eroded and value diminishes. For example, 36% of allocated time in Parliament was lost to disruption in 2012 … More than half-way through the 15th Lok Sabha, productive time is at 70%, significantly lower than previous Lok Sabhas … The government had listed 94 Bills for consideration and passing (some repeatedly) across the three sessions of Parliament. By the end of the Winter Session, only 22 Bills were passed … Eleven bills were passed with less than 30 minutes discussion. (Parliamentary Research Service, 2012)

This public outrage, while understandable, undermines the reputation not only of many hardworking MPs but also of the institution of Parliament itself. Together with scenes of disruption of parliamentary procedures, ‘time waste’ by disruptive MPs, media reports of minimal scrutiny of bills, MPs salary and perks become an additional criteria by which the parliamentary system is seen to be failing. The economic calculus, so encouraged by a liberalizing elite in other spheres of public life, then becomes an important element of judgement against Parliament itself. While the concern regarding disruptions by MPs in Parliament is understandable, we have argued elsewhere that the ‘decline of parliament’ thesis needs to be better contextualized:

272

Performing Representation

As new social groups make their way into parliament, their somatic norm, their modes of communication, their representation of identities finds forms of protest that are important for us to analyse if we are to understand the shifting democratic practices in new as well as established legislatures. (Rai, 2013: 1)

Of course, each legislative setting has its own institutional, historical, and cultural specificities which define the threshold of an acceptable level of the transgression of ritualized norms of debate; this affects how parliaments as institutions respond to legislative protest. Further, these norms change over time—institutional development, levels of social and political violence, the fragmentation of party systems all might influence the thresholds of acceptability of legislative disruptions. Thus, legislative disruption, we argue, allows us to read the wider landscape of politics through assessing institutional and political cultures and the role of the speaker in representative institutions, who might privilege regulatory pragmatics over norm integrity in the interest of institutional efficacy. Disruptions can interrupt the flow of everyday rituals of parliamentary performance—that is what distinguishes them from other forms of protest (Spary, 2013). Value for money then needs to be judged in this context of how changing norms, social profiles, and institutional development play out in different forms of protest, strategies of disruption, and challenges to the party in government and on the floor of Parliament. In this chapter, following the money has allowed us to analyse the dissonance between the resources expended on and by MPs. While corruption in an important issue for accountability, we have also shown how it is constructed in gendered ways. This has allowed us to study how office, sustainability of work over time, and money are related; how the electoral system generates a demand for monetary resources that generates corruption and criminality. We have also seen how the expenditure through MPLADS has not really promoted constituency development—rather these funds have been politically used as subsidy for incumbent MPs. What has also been clear from our analysis is that gender is an important axis in this story—but in both expected and unexpected ways. While women garner fewer monetary resources than men, they are not particularly less corrupt or more sensitive to the demands of their constituencies. At the same time, public commentary on women’s roles as MPs is particularly harsh and intolerant of their shortcomings—perhaps because women are burdened with expectations

Follow the Money

273

of care in ways that male politicians are not. In the next chapter we reflect on this aspect of women MPs’ work and their subject formation—how do women MPs regard themselves and their role as MPs and more broadly in politics?

8

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

Leadership consists of three ‘Cs’: courage—lead from the front, have the courage of your convictions; communication—when you can communicate with others, only then others will follow; you need to relate to their lives; conduct—what you do and what you say should not be too different, they should elide with each other. And team spirit—you cannot be a loner; you have to take others with you, depend on them as they depend on you. (MP46, 2 December 2005)

hen we think of women political leaders in post-Independence W India, we find that many of them are or have been parliamentarians—Indira Gandhi, Sushma Swaraj, Mamata Banerjee, and Sonia Gandhi, for example. These women leaders have accessed political life through either their family connections, or through participation in social movements, or both. Those who have secured a national profile have done so by keeping their wits about them and negotiating a deeply gendered terrain of public life and historical party conjunctures. They have sustained their participation through exercising control over their parties or through negotiating party political fault lines effectively. As the epigraph shows, these women leaders have confidence and can articulate their own vision of leadership. However, what we are interested in exploring in this chapter are the ideas about political leadership of a more mundane kind. When we spoke with women MPs, most did not consider themselves to be leaders. This posed a puzzle for us: why, after they have negotiated their way into public life, fought elections and won their seats, and taken their place in the highest representative institution Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0009

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

275

of the land, do they not see themselves as political leaders?1 Do they distinguish between their own and other (male/stream) understandings of leadership? Where do they place themselves in political and parliamentary life? Underlying these queries is our concern with how, if at all, their (non)recognition of themselves as leaders affects their performance and their place in Parliament. In the last three chapters we have analysed what women MPs do once in Parliament—how they perform, learn the ropes, and negotiate the political landscape. We have found that they participate in debates, carry out committee work, and invest and manage public funds in their constituencies. They are challenged in their work by social and institutional norms and rules. They are also influenced in their work by their ideological positions. In this chapter we ask the question—what does doing this work amount to for their own sense of self? Do they see and present themselves as political leaders? And why does it matter if they do not? Here we study the subjectivation of women MPs.2 We analyse subject narratives of women MPs when they describe what they do, how others describe what they do, and how their roles are received by citizen audiences. While we map the debates on leadership and its gendered nature in conceptual and theoretical terms, we do this in the context of our study of women parliamentarians in India—so we are not examining or commenting upon leadership in other areas of public life such as civil society and business organizations. Much of this literature in any case emerges from the work in business and management studies; and much of the empirical material supporting 1

Of course, leadership takes many forms and is performed in different scales, sectors, and registers. Given the nature of our book and the focus on Parliament, this chapter focuses only on political leadership, indeed only on leadership associated with representative politics and institutions. 2 Subjectivation, the idea of the process of becoming a subject, for Foucault, is a power/knowledge relation. Together with other feminist scholars, we use the term ‘subjectivation’ as largely focused on investigating subjectivity from an embodied, relational, and historical standpoint, as well as revealing traces of attempting to negotiate escaping histories and social relations and forging new ones through mobilizations and activism. While for Foucault rules and socialization to rules are always instruments of dressage and subjectivation, we see rules and the socialization to rules as not necessarily only a form of domination but also as enabling instruments of action (Giddens, 1991). We can see these actions performed in the contingent setting of inter-subjective action, on behaviour, performance, and role playing (Goffman, 1959).

276

Performing Representation

debates on leadership is from the global north. We reflect on this literature but also situate our own understanding in the specific context of India and its Parliament. In terms of political leadership, globally the number of female political leaders—in parliamentary and non-parliamentary systems— ‘nearly quadrupled between the 1980s and 1990s and this pattern was repeated again in the 2000s. As Jalalzai and Krook note more than three-quarters of all female presidents and prime ministers have come to office in the years since 1990’, and in general, ‘women are more likely to serve in parliamentary systems and more often as prime ministers than as presidents: there have been 40 female prime ministers and 31 female presidents’ (2010: 7, 9). They suggest that this might be because in parliamentary systems, ‘collaboration is fundamental: the qualities necessary for successfully formulating programs are negotiation, collaboration, and deliberation, all typically considered more feminine’. In contrast, presidents in presidential systems act independently of the legislature and generally are expected to lead in a quick and decisive manner, traits which are more often associated with masculinity (Jalalzai, 2008; Jalalzai and Krook, 2010:10). If women executive officers are few, the story is the same for women parliamentarians—the current world average is only 23.8 per cent, but this is the highest proportion ever recorded.3 Only 51 women preside over one of the houses of the 193 parliaments. Women, therefore, occupy only 18.3 per cent of the total number of 278 posts of presiding officers of parliament.4 The question that we address in this chapter is about leadership, but unlike Jalalzai and Krook we do not elide leadership with the role and position of women in politics. Our interviews with Indian women MPs open up the issue of leadership to further scrutiny—why, we ask, do women parliamentarians often not see themselves, or at least present themselves, as leaders? And what does this tell us about the gendered nature of Indian politics? Because of the relatively small sample size of our research (see Introduction), we study this issue by listening to the narratives and also watching their performances, and reading their life stories—biographies 3 See http://archive.ipu.org/wmn-e/world.htm, last accessed on 16 May 2018. 4 See http://archive.ipu.org/wmn-e/speakers.htm, last accessed on 16 May 2018.

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

277

and autobiographies—as well as by reflecting upon a wider exploration of their media presence. Genovese and Steckenrider argue, for example, that biographies of women leaders can reveal ‘the interplay of perceptions, expectations, interpretations of life experiences, and myths that make up the social definition of reality and “appropriate” gender roles’ (2013: 3). Githens and Prestage note that biographies ‘highlight key features of a political system, and help us focus on the periodicity of change in the system’ and help trace the challenges that woman leaders’ encounter ‘as well as the resources they are able to garner and skills that may be acquired to circumvent them’ (1977: 6–7). Life stories also illuminate the distinctive barriers faced because of marginality and perhaps the skill of women leaders at developing gender-specific resources or strategies to overcome them (LeVeness and Sweeney, 1987). We also note that because of a considerable lack of biographies and autobiographies of women political leaders an erasure of women’s contribution to politics takes place. All these elements of biography and of narratives are clearly shown in our own interviews with women MPs as they speak about their struggles, opportunities, negotiations, and on-the-job learning. Narratives also help in training for leadership; after all, knowing other leaders’ life stories might inspire others. As Richter (1991) notes, the ‘experience of … politically prominent women offers empirical “reality checks” on theories of leadership derived almost exclusively from the experiences of men’ (527). So, in this chapter we tease out the subject positions women MPs take and the gendered institutional context in which they do so. In 2004 we saw the pitting of two women parliamentarians against each other—Sonia Gandhi and Sushma Swaraj. Gandhi has been the leader of the INC since the death of her husband, Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi; and Swaraj became the first woman leader of the opposition in the Lok Sabha before becoming external affairs minister after the 16th parliamentary elections. The issue of contention between the two was leadership—of the party and of the country—and nationality—whether a ‘foreign born’ can become the prime minister of India; this was called ‘the battle between the “Indian beti” and the “foreign bahu”—daughter of India versus Italian daughter-in-law’ (Doval, 2015). While the political stakes were high, the performance was deeply gendered, not only in the above characterization of the two women but also in the qualities of leadership performed: In 2004, Swaraj threatened to shave her head and wear white—a Hindu sign of mourning—if Gandhi became the

278

Performing Representation

prime minister, because, as she put it, ‘even after the culmination of British rule and the sacrifices made by fellow Indians … a foreigner was being chosen’ (Doval, 2015). When Sonia Gandhi refused to become prime minister, the tables were turned and her decision was widely characterized as ‘the bahu making the ultimate Indian woman’s sacrifice’ (Doval, 2015). As one new magazine put it at the time: ‘The Leader with a capital L will [sic] be Sonia … Sonia has killed four birds with one stone: She has erased the controversial issue of her foreign origin. She has established her Indianness in no uncertain terms’ (Chawla, 2004). Sonia was also seen as pursuing tyag—renunciation of power—the biggest virtue that a Hindu woman can display and all this in Parliament’s Central Hall, where ‘over 200 Congress leaders, a wailing legion of the suddenly orphaned [plead] to the Leader who, [sat] in pensive majesty’ (Chawla, 2004). Swaraj felt the wrath of many and was called ‘very, very immature’. So, the question is not of women MPs, as both were, taking on leadership roles but in what gendered registers these roles are performed and received by a diverse audience—the citizens of the country, the members of their parties, and parliamentary colleagues; and whether this is the best form of leadership performance—one that can encourage other women to join politics? As we will see later, leadership is a complex concept and unfolds in gendered contexts. These gendered contexts not only shape the political landscapes upon which women and men operate, they also shape our expectations of what we consider to be leadership qualities, legitimation of some of these qualities rather than others, and specific negotiations that allow women and men to ‘lead differently’. Take for example, the three Cs plus one of our epigraph: ‘courage … communication … conduct … and team spirit (MP46, 2 December 2005). While eloquent and alliterative, these qualities also over-determine the concept of leadership; in and of themselves, they do not tell us anything about how men and women translate these qualities of leadership in the Indian political landscape marked by caste, gender, and class inequalities, and, despite the value put upon team spirit, they largely focus on individual rather than collective leadership.

Serving Not Leading? In this section we analyse a particular discourse of leadership that we noted  in our interviews and research—leadership as

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

279

service5—to  demonstrate the embedded and historical terrain upon which women MPs think about leadership. In part, the idea of social service is attributable to the nationalist struggle, especially, though not exclusively, the mainstream movement led by the Congress, and the complex position of women within it (see Chapter 1). As Forbes notes, women rejected the label of ‘feminist’ for fear of being condemned as unpatriotic; the enemy was not their male counterparts but foreign domination (1982: 529). While Gandhi supported the idea of female suffrage, he consistently mobilized gendered symbolism in the form of Hindu heroines such as Sita and Savitri, the supportive and self-sacrificing wives of Rama and Satyavan respectively; in the process, ‘Gandhi was constructing a new ideal for Indian women that rewrote passivity and self-suffering as strength’ (Forbes, 1998: 132). The Congress women’s organization, the AIWC, promoted women’s mobilization into political life but largely benefited middleclass women by providing experience of working within organizational structures (Forbes, 1998: 91). On the left, while the CPI steered clear of Gandhian invocations of Hindu symbolism, the leadership positions in the party were also overwhelmingly occupied by men. The CPI women’s organization, the NFIW, and later the CPI(M)-led AllIndia Democratic Women’s Association mobilized left-wing and trade union women to oppose gender-based violence, and also campaigned for equal pay for equal work, as well as against nuclear weapons at the height of the Cold War. However, the crossover of women leaders of these organizations into Parliament and mainstream party politics was limited. Finally, the anti-Emergency mobilizations also threw up women leaders who entered parliamentary politics through this route (see Chapter 2). We assume that women MPs in India are in political leadership positions by the virtue of the fact that they are elected members of Parliament; but do these women MPs see themselves as leaders? They perform this role within a civic and political landscape that is marked by histories of the nationalist struggle, changing gender relations in India, and within a highly complex and differentiated political system. Within 5

Of course, men also speak of service, but our contention here is that women tend to use it more in domesticated vocabularies in order to better negotiate their gendered roles as carers, who are in politics to serve and not to compete for leadership and office.

280

Performing Representation

their parties and in Parliament, they occupy different positions—and often do not see themselves as leaders but followers of party leaders. In fact, many women MPs we interviewed did not describe what they do as politics at all. In so doing, on the one hand they withdraw from the hurly burly of political life, where they might be seen as competing for attention, position, or influence, on the other, they generate an acceptable narrative that allows for their presence in public life. Of course, these narratives are politically and ideologically loaded. Women MPs, from the centre and right-wing political parties, defined their work as samaj seva (social service)—helping the poor and the needy, helping the janata or the people: My life was a struggle—my mother died when I was 8, my father when I was 15—I worked and educated myself and my siblings—I married into a well-established family. I liked to do social service but not politics— sometimes my mother-in-law worked in the elections, but generally in social work. I focused on being member of RSS (women) and [on] my social work. (MP23, 6 December 2005)

Defining their work as service allows them the space to perform and present themselves in particular ways—as not ambitious for political position, as workers rather than leaders in their parties, as social workers within their communities rather than competitors in the political arena and finally, as ‘problem solvers’ rather than political leaders. Their subjectivities are crafted and presented on a continuum that takes them from their hearths and homes to the homes of others who need their help—the discourse of service within the home continues to define their work outside it. This discourse is particularly audible in the interviews with MPs from BJP who combine a gendered radicalism without resistance to patriarchal social relations when addressing political issues. However, as Ciotti has argued, the concept of seva has also been used by Dalit women activists as a strategy of marking discursively an ‘upward class mobility’ that allowed them to participate in the political life of the BSP in Uttar Pradesh. She notes that ‘women activists appropriate and re-enact gender idioms and models coined in colonial India, refashioning them for the exigencies of contemporary politics’ (Ciotti, 2012: 149). While Ciotti situates the discourse of seva in the context of the ‘Hindu matrix’, we consider seva in its broader religious and social context; for example, Sikhism also uses the term, of course in the context of kaar seva (people’s service), which is explicitly referred to by a couple of our interviewees.

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

281

Social service articulations of leadership qualities by women MPs also reflect a ‘modesty’ of ambition; in our interviews with them, they are generally uncomfortable to be asked a question about what they think makes for a good leader—‘I don’t go into such introspection’, said one (MP22, 3 March 2006). Most almost always begin by disclaiming any status of leadership for themselves and are often happiest discussing leadership qualities in relation to a party/government leader, who is often male. Take, for example, MP39’s response to our question about what she thought were leadership qualities important to her; she responded with the following, about the leadership qualities of Atal Bihari Vajpayee, the first BJP prime minister of India: Atalji [Atal Bihari Vajpayee] has two qualities—A. whatever he says he says clearly—doesn’t matter where you stand but how you stand—B. Appropriate time, place, and form of speech—doesn’t speak for the sake of it … he has control over his tone and quality in his speech (vaani par sayam aur bhasha ka gun). (MP39, 6 February 2006)

Similarly, an MP focused on Rajiv Gandhi’s qualities as leader: I am a product [sic] of Rajivji. He had an astute eye [parkhi nazar]; he brought many good people into politics. After this death I first thought I should give this [politics] up, but the public and the leaders of Congress have been very good to me, particularly Soniaji. (MP47, 3 March 2006)

Another MP, while stating that ‘I have always been a leader’, translated this as familial responsibility: From the beginning I was responsible for others … from the beginning I have been hardworking but now I know where we are going and how we can get the work done. Keep everyone together, that is our responsibility; just like in a family. (MP47, 3 March 2006)

Such articulations for politics as social work also allows the work of women MPs to be ‘de-politicized’—it becomes more about the delivery of public goods and social choice than about competition over scarce resources and over power and authority that define the traditional understandings of politics: Even today I don’t like either politics or politicians—if you do social work, that is very good, but today politics is that 70–80% of politicians have insulted the whole profession—there are some good MPs—but most of them ‘do politics’ rather than work for the upliftment of the poor, do kaar seva. I tell them [my constituents] why do you look to others to solve

282

Performing Representation

their problems but they don’t want to work for a solution but for charity (bhikh)—Punjabis are different … Sikhs do kaar seva; they cooperate to build the community and gurudwara—we have now a target for our kaar seva—a kilometre of road to be built or we clean a kilometre of canal—I said I will run the bhandara (communal kitchen) and everyone who can will contribute rice—I want them to be self-sufficient; other politicians want them to be dependent on them—this is how corruption and apathy spread. (MP35, 1 March 2006)

The unease articulated by women MPs in defining their work as politics or political reflected a wider unease about the nature of politics and their own positions within its ambit. Given that being a member of a political party and an elected MP places them centrally within the ambit of formal politics, the discomfort felt by most of the MPs in using the term ‘politician’ or ‘political leader’ in relation to themselves and ‘politics’ to what they do merits exploration. Is it because of conventional masculinist understandings and practices of politics that these women MPs are unable to associate with these? Is it because of the traditional distance between the arena of politics and the domain of the family/home that they find themselves unable to describe what they do as politics? And yet, some women MPs who employ some of the most violent, communal, and discordant language in the Indian political theatre, also do not describe what they do as politics. Instead terms such as ‘kaar seva’ and sanyas (withdrawal from public life) are employed to define themselves, their political performance, and their actions. Here there is an attempt to tap into another element of tradition—the exceptional woman who abandons herself to the higher goal of serving the religious community through her acceptance of God and of adopting markers of renunciation in so doing. In the Indian context, the rise of Uma Bharti, ‘preacher and politician’, was one such example. Bharti became the voice of the right-wing Hindu nationalist attack on the Babri Masjid (mosque) and, therefore, impossible for the BJP party leadership to overlook. Her popular base was an important element of her success within the party despite her unorthodox and maverick behaviour. So, what does this spectrum of performance and self-presentation of the political tell us about the subjectivation of women MPs and the gendered nature of parliamentary and political life in contemporary India? Does seeing women MPs through a prism of leadership literature give us clues about not only their access to political life but also their sustainability as politicians (Chapter 9)?

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

283

Challenges of Studying Leadership As the discussion in the earlier section shows, it is difficult to study political leadership and women’s leadership in particular, as there is a dearth of material in this area. A study of political institutions as shaped by political leaders rather than by histories of political subjection, activism, or reform seems to bring forth the hauntings of ‘charismatic leadership’ that Weber so eloquently described. We avoid the study of political leadership, often because it seems so contingent—what does it matter that one leader is different from another when the system of governance remains the same? We also hesitate because in democracies we try to understand the role of ‘the people’ in holding the executive responsible, to see ‘political leadership … [as] essentially the exercise of seeking consent rather than imposing coercion’ (Teles, 2015: 25). Indeed we often associate strong leaders with weak democracies, even though we also demand democratic leadership. Political leadership also worries scholars because of a resistance to methodological individualism—we do not wish to view leaders as rational actors, disembedded from power relations, self-referential rather than relational. Another problem of addressing issues of political leadership is the simultaneous and ‘multi-arena’ context of exercising and identifying leadership. In a multi-party democracy like India, do political leaders occupy senior party positions? But then what is the place of those who are elected representatives of the people? Do MPs have a leadership position in their constituencies because they have strong links with parties and, particularly if members of the governing party, clout to get things done? Is there a certain caste/class bias of parliamentary political leadership, compared to party political leadership? As Hockin noted: ‘Even if one definition of leadership were chosen … the operational meaning of the definition would change depending on the context in which leadership would be exercised’ (1977: ix). As we have noted in our Introduction, one of the challenges of studying the life and work of MPs is identifying the multiple audiences that they address when working in or outside Parliament. Is their audience their constituency, or their party leaders in and outside Parliament, or their peers in Parliament, or the general public that they reach through their presence in the media? This multiplicity of audiences, spaces, and scales of the political lives of MPs also makes it difficult to analyse their leadership role. Defining leadership is, therefore, no easy task. The management literature is rather task oriented and defines leadership as ‘influencing

284

Performing Representation

task objectives and strategies, influencing commitment and compliance in task behaviour to achieve these objectives, influencing group maintenance’ (Yukl in Alvesson and Spicer, 2012: 252). Management studies view leadership as ‘influencing the thinking, values and emotions of followers, rather than, and distinct from, management, working directly with instructions, structures or results as means of influence’ (Alvesson and Spicer, 2012: 368). Some management and leadership scholars build on this work to develop what Genovese and Steckenrider call ‘maxims of leadership studies’, which include the following: that leadership is largely contextual—institutionally, in terms of social relations; leadership is different than power as it builds on authority and influence rather than traditional understandings of A getting B to do what she wants; leadership requires followers, the relationship with whom is critical to a dialogical approach to leading; leadership emerges in all organized groups—here individual qualities as well as the social position of individuals in organizations would be important; leadership can be learned (though not always mastered)—challenging the idea that leaders have inherent qualities, such as charisma, that are essential: ‘good judgment is the key to good leadership and that leadership is aspirational and goal oriented (usually group goals)’ (Genovese and Steckenrider, 2013: 1–2). Those studying political leadership define it through the key characteristic of ‘public office holding—often as a consequence of democratic elections’ (Teles, 2015: 29); as a mere corporeal presence in post rather than more substantive performance of leadership. Critical leadership theory on the other hand, which builds on feminist work, focuses on ‘the patterns of power and domination associated with leadership, and relate it to broader ideological and institutional conditions’ (Alvesson and Spicer, 2012: 373). In this literature, political leaders are seen to have a complex relationship with their followers—the followers (constituents) need not be members of an organization (political party), and so there is a limited acceptance of a political leader, even though as a representative of a constituency she has to represent the interests of all. Rajan (2000) makes an interesting distinction between management and political leadership: ‘Management is about path following, while leadership is about path finding’ (in Teles, 2015: 32). Differences between management and political literatures on leadership are accompanied by different conceptual frameworks. Broadly speaking, leadership studies are framed within four different approaches—functionalist, which tried to identify ‘correlations between

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

285

variables associated with leadership’; interpretive, which focused on ‘meaning-making process associated with leadership’; a critical approach to leadership, which analyses ‘the dialectics of control and resistance and the ideological aspect of leadership’; and a recent, performative approach, which rather than rejecting the idea, seeks to construct alternative forms of leadership (Alvesson and Spicer, 2012: 367). Other than the querying of the ideologies of leadership and governmentality by critical leadership studies, much of the literature on leadership, and particularly political leadership, continues to focus on individuals or individual qualities (either supporting or challenging different positions), for example, ‘political entrepreneurs’ (Varshney, 2003). But the focus has not been so much on how representation (of people/constituencies) is in itself the performance of a leadership repertoire at different levels of politics— sometimes simultaneously and at times contradictorily. Today, we are witnessing a weakening of political parties, their structure, funding, and loyalties, and much greater visibility of leaders—as the growth of populist politics globally shows. Of course, some political systems, such as the US presidential system, have a built-in bias towards ‘leader-centric’ approaches to politics, but with the rise of Modi we are also witnessing this shift within non-presidential, parliamentary politics in India. In our exploration of the role and place of women MPs in the Indian Parliament, can we see some women MPs as ‘political entrepreneurs’ who may have an impact on the party system or the political system as a whole? Some women MPs, such as Uma Bharti and Mamata Banerjee, may be seen in this light, but we are not convinced by the literature in this field given its rational choice predilections (Varshney, 2003). While Wyatt argues that we can assess ‘political entrepreneurs [as] creative and innovative individuals, rather than automatons responding mechanically to externally defined incentives’ (2009: 2), we suggest a different approach that is embedded in the social histories of gender relations on the one hand and the performances of this history in the political sphere on the other. On the whole, the mainstream literature pays rather sparse attention to issues of gender in leadership, especially to women in positions of political leadership. In our study of the Indian Parliament, we note that gendered understandings of leadership are performed and represented by women MPs in different registers depending upon location, status, norms, and the perceived audience. Subjectivation is particularly interesting to study in the context of a contemporary shift that we are witnessing—‘from looking at democracy as presenting the opportunity

286

Performing Representation

to aggregate citizens’ preferences to understand it as a mechanism of selecting leaders … This means that not only are leaders responsive to situations and individuals, they are also responsible’ (Teles, 2015: 23). While we might quibble about the strength of this argument, the issue of responsibility is an important one for us to reflect upon; do women MPs in India see themselves as responsible—for their constituents, or their local/state party branch, or their party more generally? Do they feel that they are leaders because they see themselves as responsible and responsive—to their constituents but also to the demands of their party? Does this distinction between responsiveness and responsibility hold when we address MPs as leaders? More importantly, is this personalization of politics itself deeply gendered, in that women leaders have to find different registers of claiming space as leaders in a political context where, despite small progress, men continue to predominate? As Ridgeway argues in the context of the United States, Gender status beliefs shape men’s and women’s assertiveness, the attention and evaluation their performances receive, ability attributed to them on the basis of performance, the influence they achieve, and the likelihood that they emerge as leaders. Gender status beliefs also create legitimacy reactions that penalize assertive women leaders for violating the expected status order and reduce their ability to gain complaince [sic] with directives. (2001: 637)

Leadership as Theory and Gendered Praxis The issue of leadership is considered to be important for analysing women’s roles in public life for many reasons and from different perspectives, including the following: Normative: It is assumed that women bring a different style of leadership politics to the public sphere (Gilligan, 1982); that they are less aggressive, more focused on the work at hand, and less corrupt than their male counterparts (Vecchio, 2002; Goetz, 2007). As MP24 said, ‘Definitely empathy is important for leadership; as a woman I feel drawn to their [her constituents’] problems—they are able to speak to us as women—I feel they are so oppressed; I should help them first’ (MP28, 6 December 2005). Further, there is a belief that women lead differently: based on three studies of American women in leadership positions, Eagly and Johnson note, ‘Consistent with stereotypic expectations about a different aspect of leadership style, the tendency to lead democratically or autocratically, women tended to adopt a more democratic or

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

287

participative style and a less autocratic or directive style than did men’ (1990: 233). This is one of the myths explored by Cornwall, Harrison, and Whitehead (2007), and also discussed by Batliwala and Dhanraj (2004), among many. Of course, these attributes of leadership are themselves gendered and discursively used to make arguments for a greater presence of women. Pragmatic or instrumental: It is expected that women leaders would access different constituencies, would be good role models, inspire other women to join public life. The normative and the pragmatic work together too: because women are often viewed holding the family together, they may be seen as capable of uniting their country following a period of political conflict; Margaret Thatcher played into this role of unifier at her first election, for example, when she quoted St Francis of Assisi—‘Where there is discord, may we bring harmony’—as she arrived at Number 10 Downing Street as prime minister; as did Theresa May in 2016 when she promised ‘a country that works for everyone’ in the context of unease about the differential effects of austerity policies pursued by the Conservative government. Efficiency: The argument goes that because they are risk-averse, women leaders can be more effective in organizations. Often it is said, for example, that if there were Lehman Sisters and not Lehman Brothers we might not have had the financial collapse that we have been experiencing (Prügl, 2012).6 Or that a feminine style is more efficient because women are more skilled at inclusiveness, power sharing, and democratic leadership, and generating ‘webs of inclusion’ (Helgeson, 1990) and are, therefore, superior leaders—what Yukl has called the ‘feminine advantage’ (2002). Performance of leadership: This too is cast in a gendered narrative that is then not explicitly acknowledged or is registered in essentialist modes: a gentle, passive agreement tone for women, who also use more ‘tag questions’ rather than assert their position and make greater attempts to connect with others, to be liked. Women are also less open in their body language—occupy less space, use more animated tones (Vecchio, 2002). For example, leadership is often elided with heroic or exceptional acts: ‘Leadership refers to more than mere office holding. It is a complex phenomenon revolving around influence [institutional 6 In the aftermath of the financial crisis of 2008/2009 there was much speculation about the gendered dimensions of this crisis—in terms of those affected by it in terms of race and class and also in terms of gender relations in finance.

288

Performing Representation

leadership]’ with individual qualities: ‘The leader’s style, political acumen, character traits, and personal attributes provide a behavioral repertoire, a set of skills as well as individual qualities’ (Genovese and Steckenrider, 2013). The problem is that by viewing leadership as an individual quality, we seem to place the burden of cultivating leadership on those who have the least resources—for example, women as a group. The subtext can easily be that it is somehow up to women to become leaders, that those who fail are lacking in something—drive, ambition, motivation, or what Sheryl Sandberg has called a lack of ‘lean[…] in’ attitude (Sandberg, 2013; for a critique see True, 2016). This focus on the individual characteristics of leadership and authority is reflected in the way that the women MPs we interviewed negotiate their way around this complex political terrain. Very often the nature of leadership works across these theoretical boundaries: leadership as a concept is characterized in gendered ways when leadership maxims are outlined and debated. So, leadership qualities are seen to involve imagination, creativity, strategic thinking, and an ability to negotiate and form alliances and to inspire others to share the leader’s vision for change, even as gendered norms are emplaced in our analysis of the concept itself. In terms of subjectivation, historical embeddedness plays out in individual narratives; representation of socially constructed and legitimated narratives of leadership are filtered through where individual leaders stand on the political spectrum: for example, traditional gendered norms are clear in our interview with a BJP MP who saw leadership in terms of the following: Shaant aur madhur swabhav (calm and sweet temperament); team work to take people together; manthan—listen to all and then take decision; be big hearted—let go of things said about you and don’t hold grudges; clarity—see which things need to be righted and these should be straightened up. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

Another insisted, Women by nature have dheeraj, patience; they are better in coalitions and negotiations because compromise is a way of life for them, especially for married women, but others too; dherya and sahansheelta (patience and forbearance)—women have these more than men. (MP43, 5 December 2005)

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

289

The speaker of the Lok Sabha, Sumitra Mahajan, stated at a conference on women legislators Women are also often the strongest voices for peace and nonviolence. Women leadership and conflict resolution styles embody democratic ideals and they tend to work in a less hierarchal, more participatory and more collaborated manner than their male colleagues. Thus women’s contribution is crucial to building a strong and vibrant nation. We can ignore it at our own peril. (2016: 21)

While the essentialism and the conservatism of focusing on ‘womanly qualities’ is self-evident, such narratives do displace the individualized and heroic approaches to leadership—they reflect the social and political translation within particular normative cultures. However, of course, this is also highly problematic in its valorization of gendered discourses of service and acceptance. It suggests that, like the Weberian charismatic leadership qualities, women’s leadership qualities are inherent to them. At the same time, we also perceive that ‘the way of life’ generates its own gendered logic of leadership: women learn to be patient because they have to negotiate the social landscape of the family and community over a period of time. One final observation here would be that these essentialized gendered norms are shifting: as Tarini Bedi notes, notions of ‘dashing’ (brave, aggressive, and assertive) contrast with these conventional modes of political participation for centre and right-wing women (2016). This is particularly evident where women cross the institutional/ social movement divide: Uma Bharti and Vijaya Raje Scindia being two who rode well the BJP- and VHP-constructed wave of anti-Muslim and anti-Babri Masjid sentiment that led to the destruction of the mosque. Of course, leadership, like participation and representation, is exercised at different levels of mobilization and organization. Arguably, women’s networking has been a successful strategy of supporting women in leadership roles (see Chapter 9). For example, women’s local community networking can be an important way of consolidating leadership qualities (T. Basu, 2008; Roy, 2012; Madhok, 2013 ). Finally, leadership has to be accountable to be effective. Accountability can be defined as the ‘requirement for representatives [and representative organizations] to answer [for] the disposal of their powers and duties, act upon criticism or requirements made of them and accept (some) responsibility for failure, incompetence, or deceit’ (McLean, 1996: 1). As we have noted above, often women are set up within political and cultural discourse as more accountable than men—women are seen

290

Performing Representation

as less corrupt, more transparent, and generally more approachable to their constituents (Goetz, 2007). And many of our interviewees bought into this discourse and repeated it with some delight; it allowed them to develop a narrative that legitimized their presence in Parliament: ‘If good ladies join [politics] we will have less corruption, women are less corrupt—they have a soft corner for social work—they have better qualities than men—they are less corrupt’ (MP35, 1 March 2006). Such stereotypical delineation of women politicians places unrealistic burdens upon women, who are then not allowed any ‘failures’ of accountability in comparison to men.

Political Leadership and Its Gendered Manifestations While critical of some of the leadership literature, in this chapter we have taken the concept seriously because we think that leadership is an important function of political representation as well as subjectivation— ‘to become’ leaders in the doing of representative politics. Through participation in representative politics, articulating interests, campaigning, mobilizing, and getting elected, political representatives can be seen and can see themselves as political leaders. Yet, as we have shown in the earlier section, this has not led women MPs in the Indian Parliament to position themselves as leaders, or to articulate a narrative of leadership that is inclusive of their position within the political system. In part, this might have to do with the hostile political landscape women operate in generally—for example, media coverage of their work is routinely stereotyping, invisibilizing while at the same time focusing on their faults rather than their strengths (Mavin, Bryans, and Cunningham, 2010). The media itself, of course, reflects the social norms that support gender bias in public life. By analysing the narratives of politics and leadership, we suggest that women’s marginal position within Parliament, in party politics, and on the borders of the public and the private generates this vocabulary of service, which is seen as an appropriate characterization of women’s public work and which is reproduced and circulated through media and social media. Finally we argue that small numbers of women in large institutions mean that a lack of ‘critical mass’ leaves women isolated and constrained in challenging gender bias. So, whether women ‘do politics differently’ or not might be dependent upon the context in which they find themselves; a strong cohort of women MPs, for example, might allow them not only to speak out more freely and openly on issues of concern to them,

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

291

but also to challenge institutional norms that are biased in favour of their male colleagues, which in turn could lead to institutional changes, securing better conditions of work for women, and creating a ‘virtuous cycle of change’. Further, a large presence of women might influence male behaviour—women might challenge bias more confidently and, therefore, men might appreciate their work and pay attention to the issues that they raise (Saint-Germain, 1989; Thomas, 1994). Childs and Krook have challenged the theory of ‘critical mass’ (2008), noting instead the importance of ‘critical actors’ in political institutions; in effect they argue that leaders matter. Their argument critiques work (Beckwith, 2007) that seems to suggest a linear relationship between numbers (critical mass) and outcomes (gender-equal policies). They also argue that ‘mechanisms of candidate selection and norms of party discipline determine what kinds of women and men are elected, as well as the specific policy positions that they are likely to adopt once they accede to political office’ (2009: 130); that institutional contexts frame women and men, which in turn might affect whether women are able to act for change. Citing the path-breaking work by Kanter in this field, Childs and Krook argue, ‘Kanter’s contention that feminists are central to women-friendly outcomes suggests that numbers may matter less than the presence of “women-identified-women”’ (2009: 137), that is, women with a ‘change agenda’. This aligns with Dahlerup’s argument that change lies in ‘critical acts’, or initiatives that ‘change the position of the minority and lead to further changes’ rather than just increased numbers (1988: 296). While any such causality would be problematic, our worry is also that by focusing on critical actors, Childs and Krook themselves abandon a contextualized social and structural analysis of the work gender does in political institutions. In their view, ‘Emphasizing agents over outcomes, we define critical actors as legislators who initiate policy proposals on their own and/or embolden others to take steps to promote policies for women, regardless of the numbers of female representatives’ (1998: 138, our emphasis in both instances). Of course, while critical actors or leaders are important to analyse—they provide greater visibility to issues, they can be role models and catalysts, and even their failures might generate debate—this emphasis on acting alone can also suggest an acceptance of the male heroic model of leadership. This model focuses on behavioural characteristics rather than social structures-indominance, on individuals rather than political solidarities, and also seems to throw out the baby with the bathwater in suggesting that the importance placed on the number of women in leadership positions

292

Performing Representation

matters less than effective leaders. Further, an emphasis on critical actors or leaders takes us back to Edmund Burke’s position that it does not matter who represents whom so long as the representative does their job well; in effect this breaks the link between descriptive and substantive representation and worryingly puts individuals rather than groups at the heart of change politics. It also glosses over the contestation among women about what is in their interests or even the conflicts between them; for example, we can hardly assume that a BJP critical actor will identify women’s interest in the same terms as a CPI(M) critical actor. So the issue is not simply of critical actors or leaders who are ‘womenidentified-women’ but which women and espousing what politics. As we have noted above, it is this kind of focus on individual leadership that has been criticized by both structuralist and critical leadership scholars. In fact, there is now research that shows that where there are more female members of parliament (MPs), adolescent girls are more likely to discuss politics with friends and to intend to participate in politics as adults, and adult women are more likely to discuss and participate in politics. The presence of female MPs registers the same effect on political discussion regardless of age, but the impact on women’s political activity is far greater among the young than the old. (Wolbrecht and Campbell, 2007: 921)

Throughout the book we have been arguing against a reductionist thinking. We know that there is research that shows that women in Indian politics have not worked for all women: ‘On the political front, far from women transforming politics, evidence of the reverse is mounting. Particularly disturbing is the way in which fundamentalist parties have fostered women’s political participation to advance their agenda’ (Batliwala and Dhanraj, 2004: 8). It is important to interrogate the myths of representation; it is also important to address the counterfactuals: Based on the complex evidence can we argue that we do not need to struggle for fairer gender representation in Parliament? Through our work we are trying tease out the complexities of gendered parliamentary politics; leadership is one such arena. Here we are not arguing that critical actors do not matter; rather we are arguing that critical mass does. It allows us to keep the focus on the importance of increased presence of women in political institutions and it also generates debate on what makes institutions safer and more comfortable spaces to work in; it is one of the elements that generates sustainable presence of women in political institutions (see Chapter 9).

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

293

Take, for example, the issue of institutional biases in role allocations in Parliament; as Puwar (2004) has noted, as the presence of women in Parliament increases, male MPs often feel like the number of women is actually much higher than it actually is, merely because they are not as much of a minority as they previously were, even though they are still a minority. This ‘amplification of numbers’ also underlines the visible differences—of bodies, colour, voice—in contexts of predominance of particular groups in parliaments and can affect the work of visible minorities. Women are also often seen as the ‘social workers of management’ and excluded from key decision-making positions (Ferrario 1991: 19). Alternatively, women are assigned ‘women- and child-centred’ roles (see Chapter 6), are largely sidelined in committees and portfolios to do with money (see Chapter 7), and are, therefore, seen to be affective rather than effective in the political arena. Such gender-biased institutional practices reinforce distinctions between men and women and continue to favour a structuring rather than a supportive style of leadership. Ferrario argues that a balanced approach would benefit both men and women within the institution itself: A glassworks in Stourbridge, UK, cast aside the mantle of ‘winner takes all’ in favour of an approach that aimed for compromise and co-operation. Female managers became the mentors of the new style and both sexes learned the best of both ‘male’ and ‘female’ managerial skills. Benefits to the company included increased subordinate job satisfaction, improved industrial relations and an increase in turnover. (Ferrario, 1991: 20)

At an institutional level, does the occupation of leadership positions in Parliaments by women lead to it being a more gender-sensitive institution? In India, women have been speakers of Lok Sabha since 2009; has this (a) reduced the effects of gendered institutional biases within Parliament and (b) increased women’s presence and participation in debates (see Chapter 5) and committee work (Chapter 6)? Some scholars in the field of gender and management have noted that there is a shift in management education from a more directive to a more participative management style—‘from control to commitment’ (Lawler, 1988), which ‘has been labelled the “feminization of management”’ (Fondas, 1997 in Rhee and Sigler, 2015: 110). ‘The Deputy Speaker is a woman and has been a role model for women. When we go there for the first time, we have a seminar for new women members given by the Deputy Speaker on how parliamentary standing orders work, etc.’, said a woman parliamentarian from Tanzania (IPU, 2011a: 19). Some recent studies on gender and leadership

294

Performing Representation

suggest, however, that despite this shift, the ‘followers’ or recipients of the leadership styles continue to show gender bias: Women leaders, regardless of style, face an uphill battle in terms of perceptions of effectiveness and preference regardless of who their followers might be. A woman parliamentarian from Sweden noted: ‘Female leaders are more contested and opposed, and this applies to women in both senior and junior positions’. (IPU, 2011: 19)

In addition, women leaders who go against the grain of dominant gender norms might be penalized even more (Rhee and Sigler, 2015: 109). These perceptions fundamentally affect women’s decisions to enter politics; as one of our interviewees said, ‘India is a male-dominated society; men have their ego and even in the party men don’t want that women should lead them—they want to keep them in their place’ (6 February 2006). So, Rhee and Sigler argue, ‘If the influence of gender stereotypes is stronger than the influence of leadership style, the evaluation of female managers may not change as the preferred leadership style changes’ (2015: 111). The reception of politicians by their constituents is the key to a sustainable presence in Parliament. So, the politics of presence can also ensure that through greater visibility over time, women might become more acceptable as they are seen not as exceptions (good or bad) but as fully participating political subjects in institutions that accept them as such. Finally, as the IPU report on gender-sensitive parliaments suggests, ‘When women constitute substantial numbers in a parliament, the “eligibility pool” of “qualified and experienced talent” also increases and women become more viable candidates for leadership positions’ (2011a: 19). In studying the impact of women’s presence in political life, the focus has largely been on recruitment—on how many women are there in Parliament and does their presence make a difference? We discuss the issue of leadership in the context not only of descriptive (critical mass) or substantive (critical actors) representation, but also of symbolic representation—the third and least studied of the triptych of representation that Hannah Pitkin outlined (see Rai, 2010; Lombardo and Meier, 2014; Rai and Reinelt, 2015). As Tamerius has eloquently noted in the context of the US, As women ascend the steps of the Capitol, assume their places in the president’s cabinet and take their seats on the bench of the Supreme Court, they alter the political landscape in ways that cannot be captured [simply] by photographs or physical descriptions. (1995: 94)

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

295

She also warns that the debates on substantive representation (whether more women in political institutions translate to better policies for women) are wrong-headed: Rather than considering what we mean when we say that women will alter the substance of government and choosing tools well suited to investigating those propositions, researchers have simply appropriated traditional indicators of difference and applied them to the study of gender … an approach [that] is bound to provide a distorted image of the nature and consequences of women’s political participation. (Tamerius, 1995: 95)

In short, as Audre Lorde said, ‘The master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house.’ Finally, as we have shown in Chapter 3, women’s presence and especially the assertive presence of women in politics can attract violence against them—discursive as well as physical. A study by CSR and UN on violence against women in politics notes that ‘physical violence, verbal abuse and threat of violence are higher for India’ than Pakistan and Nepal (2014: 44). Take the example of senior BJP leader Sushma Swaraj and the choice of her clothes on official visits: she was trolled for wearing a green sari (deemed a Muslim colour) on her visit to Pakistan, and covering up rather too much when in Iran: ‘Why wrapped in a bedsheet?’ was one comment, while another tweet said “Madam … disgusting to see you wrapped up in hijab. You come from the land of Durga. Shameful to appease mullas’ (Tuli, 2016). So, holding a leadership position does not provide much protection; most women politicians face complex issues of negotiating the public space. The CSR and UN report also mentioned violence taking different forms: character assassination, verbal harassment, threats, emotional blackmail. One political journalist reported: Women politicians while visiting their constituencies, use the veil to keep up the tradition of the bahu (daughter-in-law), while daughters and ‘sisters’ can be without their heads covered, all following the set standards so as not to upset public patriarchal mind-sets. (CSR and UN, 2014: 43)

As we have discussed in the context of elections (Chapter 3), physical violence also affects women politicians: ‘Candidates, their families, and voters are often exposed to violence during elections. This violence can also continue after elections and can force women politicians to quit their political career’ (CSR and UN, 2014: 24). One of our interviewees, a then Cabinet minister, lost her 13-year-old son in a car crash and she

296

Performing Representation

was convinced that this was the work of the coal mafia that she took on: ‘My son was killed … it was meant for me, but my child died’ (MP40, 16 December 2006). While painful, this violent attack on her and her family was used by in her election campaign in 1998: ‘Her speech touching on her son’s death: “I lost my son in an accident but each youth present here is like my son.” It seems the right thing to say, for immediately cries of “Kanti tum mut ghabrana tere pichhe sara jamana (Fear not Kanti, the world is with you)” rent the air’ (Jha, 1998). Increasingly, threats against women in public life are becoming violent in social media, discouraging women in public life from taking a stand. Women also have to watch their step within their own political parties: ‘Safety activists contend that parties’ willingness to back male politicians with criminal records had heightened women’s vulnerability’ and women politicians from marginalized communities face even higher threats. ‘Over 60 percent of women do not participate in politics due to fear of violence’, said Rebecca Tavares, the UN Women’s Representative for India. Leadership issues are then enmeshed in violent gender relations that affect the presence, the effectiveness, and the symbolic value of women in politics. Violence, of course, not only negatively affects recruitment of women into politics, it also influences the decision parliamentarians make to stay on in political life; sustainability of presence is affected by the conditions of work (see Chapter 9). So, women politicians face a multiplicity of challenges in public life which adversely affect their participation in politics and in performing their role as leaders—in relation to others (party leaders and constituents) as well as themselves. In our discussion about the gendered concept of leadership, we have noted the various ways that women MPs in India negotiate their way through a labyrinth of structural and institutional inequalities that affect them. Leadership, we have argued, cannot be seen as an individual attribute; it is always mediated by the social architecture within which women function. Women’s leadership cannot be sustainable in the long run if we do not take such a gendered understanding of leadership into account. What we have seen is that women negotiate a gendered political terrain in different ways, for example, through eschewing the language of leadership; rather they persistently use the discourse of seva or service. They do this knowing that their roles as politicians are precarious—they are not given winnable seats, they are often replaced in constituencies they have nurtured—while they are also constantly having to make a case that they can be effective in their gendered roles as good mothers,

Narratives of Politics and Leadership

297

daughters, wives, and simultaneously as politicians; indeed they often challenge male politicians through the emphasis they place on service as a womanly characteristic: The image of the politicians has been damaged terribly—today the Gandhi cap and khadi clad politician is a caricature—of corruption, of everything that is wrong. In India what appeals to people is tyag (sacrifice)—of forgetting ourselves to serve the people. This is what Mahatma Gandhi taught us—this pomp and grandeur is ok but the Indian people admire only those who can give expression to their aspirations—this is where we are losing out—politics has become self-centered—not issues— you can’t claim leadership—so to me, leadership is about honesty both in actions and thinking processes, courage to express what you think is right and second, changing lives. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

We started with the puzzle of why women MPs do not see themselves as leaders. In part the answer lies in the institutional and social gender biases that generate a small pool of women politicians to choose from. Women MPs have varied resources and parties are more likely to invest these in men than in women. Social modes of performance mean that assuming the roles of leaders does not come easily to women, which then generates the issue of role models for future generation of politicians. In this chapter we have shown that women occupy a complex space in the Indian Parliament—on the one hand they are seen as leaders of their communities and constituents and on the other they are seen as party members who have to negotiate a gendered organizational landscape. The discourse of seva allows them to bridge the two worlds they occupy—the public sphere can through this move become an extension of the home. Constant references to the home and to themselves as home makers allow them to open up new spaces to function and to maintain their position in Parliament. Their subjectivation reflects, negotiates, and sometimes challenges gender relations that they encounter, perform, and sometimes defy. In the next chapter, we build on this discussion to show how issues of participation and leadership affect the sustainability, or otherwise, of women in Parliament. What sustains their participation and seeing Parliament not as a reified institution but as a place of work might allow us to think through how parliamentary politics might become attractive for women.

9 Sustaining Participation Accessing parliament is the first hurdle. Once in parliament, women MPs face a new set of challenges: to carve out their own space and gain influence over policy-making processes. (IPU, 2015)

ike most of the literature in the field, we too have focused thus far on Lparticipation women accessing parliament and making a case, by discussing their in the work of parliament, for increased representation of women. In this chapter we turn to an issue that is less discussed in the literature—not so much access but sustainability of women’s participation in Parliament. The questions we raise relate to whether sustaining participation depends on a gender-sensitive Parliament. Further, does sustained engagement of women in parliamentary politics lead to greater gender sensitivity of the institution? We also reflect on why incumbency plays a lesser role in the party re-nomination of women MPs for elections and how the Parliament as a work place contributes or not to their desire to stay on as MPs. These issues are important because, as we have been discussing in earlier chapters, access, participation, experience, and leadership all play a role in reproducing as well as challenging parliamentary norms through tentative or assured performances. In our interviews we realized that the women MPs we interviewed enjoyed their work and wanted to continue in their role as MPs. Said one MP about her introduction to Parliament: First, I didn’t want to come to Parliament, but wanted to stay at Vidhan Sabha [State Assembly]. But now I feel I have got so much exposure at the Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0010

Sustaining Participation

299

national level, meet [sic] so many different people, languages, culture … I feel so good now; I love this. I have learnt so much from our leaders. Party work is very different at this level. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

Another insisted, ‘I won’t leave Parliament until I am defeated—not before’; this after saying at another point in the interview, ‘My ambition in politics is nothing; I am not interested; I don’t enjoy it’ (MP32, 1 March 2006). Still another said, ‘Ten years from now I would like to remain a successful politician’ (MP22, 2 December 2005). So, the question is why are some women able to sustain their participation and presence in Parliament for much longer than others? And what are the structural and performative supports and impediments to such continuance? Of course we know from our own and other research that gender neutrality of Parliament is a myth (Krook and Mackay, 2015). Parliaments, like other institutions, are gendered—in their rules as well as in the performance of these rules; in the norms they support, aesthetics they present, in their leadership, and the everyday dramaturgy (Rai and Johnson, 2014). As Hawkesworth has argued in the context of the United States of America, legislatures display ‘racing–gendering as a political process that silences, stereotypes, enforces invisibility, excludes, and challenges the epistemic authority of [women and, more particularly, women of ] colour’ (2003: 529). This marginality is also clear in the retention rates of women in Parliament—men have longer shelf lives in party and parliamentary politics than women (see Chapters 3 and 4). What does this tell us about the institutional and structural barriers to sustainable parliamentary participation for women? In this final chapter, we ask: What are the main challenges facing women politicians for not just getting into office, but of being re-nominated and re-elected for successive terms? How does their experience of participation in party politics, electoral campaigning, and functioning in Parliament affect their decision of whether to contest for a second and subsequent terms? We start with analysing the increasingly influential concept of ‘gender-sensitive parliaments’ as a way of formulating institutional change that could improve women’s presence in parliaments (IPU, 2011a), and explore whether this framework can help us in answering our questions of sustainable participation. IPU has defined such a parliament as follows: Gender-sensitive parliament: a parliament that responds to the needs and interests of both men and women in its structures, operations, methods

300

Performing Representation

and in its work. Gender-sensitive parliaments remove the barriers to women’s full participation and offer a positive example or model to society at large. (2011a: 6)

Reflecting upon this concept alerts us to the critical role that both the institution of Parliament as well as political parties and their leaders play in the sustainability of women’s parliamentary careers. We examine the re-nomination and re-election of incumbent women MPs over successive parliamentary terms and the narratives that emerge from these electoral moments, which tell us about the competitive character of electoral politics in India. Furthermore, while the induction of women into politics (see Chapter 2) often refers to family support as a necessity, their continued presence in Parliament does not always elicit the same family-based explanations. In this chapter we analyse the role families play in sustaining participation of women MPs. Similarly, we examine whether their membership of wider political organizations—women’s groups, for example—help in sustaining participation. We also reflect upon the everyday pressures of work—life–work balance; the pressures of expectation from constituencies and constituents and from the civil and political associations or morchas which they seek to mobilize and represent; and their travels to and from and within their often large and infrastructure poor constituencies. All this contributes to struggles for a sustainable participation of women in Parliament. We explore the issues that women MPs face once they are elected and suggest that even successful women MPs face a daunting institutional environment; the greater challenge for making politics more gender equitable is not just ‘getting women in’ but of changing masculinized institutional cultures once women are in representative positions (IPU, 2011). This environment is, of course, affected by the number of women present; while most feminist work underlines the importance of numerically increasing women in representative institutions, there are others who worry about the backlash1 effect of a higher number of women in parliaments (Mansbridge and Shames, 2008; Barnes, 2016; Krook and Mackay, 2015). We need to assess what institutional support should be provided to women MPs not just from political parties but also from Parliament in order to withstand backlash and optimize 1

‘“Backlash” denotes politically conservative reactions to progressive (or liberal) social or political change’ (Faludi, 1993); Mansbridge and Shames also underline the coercive nature of backlash (2008).

Sustaining Participation

301

effectiveness. We examine the training of MPs in the context of the growing discourse about gender-sensitive parliaments to address this issue. Finally, we examine whether sustainable participation may be enhanced through cross-party collaboration among women, who may be able to work more effectively and feel more supported if they work with other women in Parliament—is collaborative democratic practice more conducive to women staying on in politics? Equally, does such collaboration provide parliamentary institutions with a more gendersensitive way of working by eschewing aggressive, dominant, and noisy modes of performance? Sustaining political performance is thus a complex but critically important issue, an examination of which can not only lead to women consolidating their presence and participation in Parliament but also enable Parliament and its institutions to change in gender-sensitive ways. This finally leads us to reflect upon what the limitations of this conceptualization of change are and what a gender-sensitive Parliament may look like.

Parliament as Place of Work: Towards Gender-Sensitive Parliaments Parliament is, first and foremost, a representative institution; what is often overlooked in this context is that it is also a workplace. Issues of formal and informal work practices and norms play an important role in the work of MPs: participating in the everyday work of Parliament— debating, legislating, and holding the executive to account—and representing their constituents. It is only recently that scholars have started treating parliaments as workplaces: for example, the IPU publication on gender-sensitive parliaments maps efforts to make parliaments more ‘women-friendly’ (2011; see also Wängnerud, 2015). These initiatives include some meta-level and some everyday processes: changing the timing of sittings so that parliamentarians can spend evenings with their families; establishing parental leave policies; developing alternatives for voting on bills in the absence of an alternate legislator; providing childcare facilities and breastfeeding rooms in parliament buildings, and making the language used in parliament more inclusive towards women (Galligan and Mein, 2016). In its action plan for promoting gender-sensitive parliaments, the IPU suggests that a gender-sensitive parliament does the following:

302

Performing Representation

1. Promotes and achieves equality in numbers of women and men across all of its bodies and internal structures. 2. Develops a gender-equality policy framework suited to its own national parliamentary context. 3. Mainstreams gender equality throughout all of its work. 4. Fosters an internal culture that respects women’s rights, promotes gender equality, and responds to the needs and realities of MPs— men and women—to balance work and family responsibilities. 5. Acknowledges and builds on the contribution made by the men members who pursue and advocate for gender equality. 6. Encourages political parties to take a proactive role in the promotion and achievement of gender equality. 7. Equips its parliamentary staff with the capacity and resources to promote gender equality, actively encourages the recruitment and retention of women to senior positions, and ensures that gender equality is mainstreamed throughout the work of the parliamentary administration. (IPU, 2012: 11) While this is a useful checklist for measuring the gender-sensitivity of parliaments, we find that it also has some interpretive gaps. So, how does this checklist help us evaluate the Indian Parliament for being a good workplace for women MPs? Hosting the Seventh [International] Meeting of Women Speakers of Parliament in 2012 to discuss gender-sensitive parliaments, where the ‘New Delhi Initiative for Gender-Sensitive Parliaments’ was adopted, the speaker of the Indian Parliament said: ‘A gender sensitive Parliament to my mind, is not only the one with sufficient representation of women, but is also the one which enacts forward looking legislations for women’ (Kumar, 2013: 4). She, thus, connected descriptive and substantive representation. She also emphasized the work of the IPU gender-sensitive parliament agenda and pledged follow-up activities on all the action points of IPU listed earlier. Included in this list is, of course, women’s participation in all parliamentary committees and leadership positions in all parliamentary structures. While the establishment of the CEW was a forward step, as we saw in Chapter 5, the work is assigned largely to women. Committee membership and leadership continues to be hugely gender unequal despite the fact that for two consecutive Parliaments the speaker of Lok Sabha has been a woman. As far as we can tell, there has been no systematic gender assessment of Parliament’s work either, although there was the introduction of gender-neutral language rules (see later).

Sustaining Participation

303

While this lack of progress is disappointing, it is not a surprise. We have been arguing in this book that parliaments and those who work within them need to be analysed in context. We have done this through the frame of performance—performance not just as effectiveness but also as ‘showing doing’ (Schechner, 1985). In our study of women in the Indian Parliament thus far we have noticed the following: there is a clear discrepancy between men and women as institutional leaders: the presence of women MPs is very limited, as is their position in leadership positions in Parliament (Chapters 2, 3, and 8). We have also noted the gendered nature of MPs’ participation in parliamentary debates—the hostility and sarcasm that they face in the chambers is persistent, as is the neglect of their claims to speak (Chapter 5). Finally, we have pointed to the diversity of women in Parliament—on grounds of class, education, caste, and religion (Chapter 4), which resists classifying them simply as a bloc, especially when we take into account their political ideologies and indeed political parties. So, how does Parliament as a place of work make gender-sensitive decisions that will address these discrepancies, diversities, and marginalities? The intersectional analysis of women’s participation in the working of Parliament is a case in point. We often heard from our interviewees that while women have a tough route to Parliament, once they get there, gender discrimination recedes. Institutional rules apply to everyone and the prestige of Parliament allows women and men to participate equally. However, we also heard that women do not participate as much as they should: Women don’t speak very often—it is regulated; they don’t speak because they are not interested—I can speak louder than men—if they want they can put down 193, 177 notices or questions—if they don’t, then how can they complain that they don’t get chance to speak? (MP39, 6 February 2006)

Some women MPs thought that there were lots of opportunities that depend less on the party and more on the individual MP (MP10, 14 May 2015; MP42, 22 April 2015), and still others pointed out that the time allocated to particular issues was greater than issues such as gender (MP37, 7 May 2015). So, here the problems seem to lie not only with women not coming forward—not ‘leaning in’ (Sandberg, 2013)—but also institutional barriers to women’s participation. We have evidence that even when they speak, the barracking and interruptions put off women MPs from speaking in the chamber and the

304

Performing Representation

pressure by political parties to disrupt proceedings at times embarrasses them (Alva, 2016; MP26, 28 February 2006; see also Lovenduski, 2014 on UK Parliament). While some women MPs feel that speaking under these conditions allows them to make their reputation as an active MP, it is not surprising that most point to the gendered nature of Parliament and women’s marginality within it as a reason for few women making interventions in debates: Lok Sabha is all sound and fury—every day there is something going on—Biharis fighting, or something—there is no time for reflection, or making considered contributions; you go prepared but can’t speak—so many people wanting to speak you get hardly any time—I found it a profoundly frustrating experience … It is easier for a woman to function in Rajya Sabha. (MP2, 7 December 2005; see also Karat, 2005)

The variety of explanations reflect the political ideologies that these different women MPs hold. For some the individual is the critical actor with responsibility for their own actions, while others seek more structural explanations; the former are mostly from right-wing and centrist parties, while the latter are largely left-wing MPs. The terms of inclusion of women in the procedures and practices of Parliament are also different—right-wing MPs are more comfortable with different roles for women and men, while left-wing women MPs are more focused on gender-equality norms. Our argument here is that political ideology matters—and that gender-sensitivity of parliaments can also be read in different political registers. At the same time, there are certain gender interventions, advocated by the IPU, that most women MPs we interviewed would welcome—fostering an institutional culture that respects women’s rights, recognizing the contribution made by its male members (especially party leaders) who pursue and advocate for gender equality, and mainstreaming gender equality throughout the work of the parliamentary rules and norms. These are institutional mechanisms to improve the working conditions of women in Parliament. However, as the case of the WRB shows, even though the position of women MPs has converged in support of quotas across the left/right divide, political parties make it impossible for them to vote according to their conscience and build alliances to ensure higher presence and participation of women in Parliament (see later and also Chapter 5). So, making parliaments gender-sensitive is political in both senses—gender politics and party politics must align to bring this about. In the following section we focus on women’s re-nomination, a critically important area of party control, which can either consolidate or

Sustaining Participation

305

undermine the sustainability of women’s presence and participation in Parliament.

Contesting Again: Incumbency, Re-nomination, and Re-election For parliaments to become gender sensitive—descriptively, substantively, and symbolically/performatively—political parties need to be on board. As Wängnerud notes, ‘Parliaments do not change unless major political parties want them to … gender-sensitive parliaments are made up of gender-sensitive political parties, which in turn are made up of gendersensitive politicians’ (2015: 2). As we have seen in Chapter 8, party leaders can be critical in promoting as well as resisting gender equality. One important area of intervention for political parties and political leaders is that of nominating and re-nominating women to electable seats. In Chapter 3 we examined the patterns of nomination of women for elections; in this chapter we examine patterns of re-nomination. At the end of a parliamentary term, assuming an MP wants to contest again, they will face two specific challenges: re-nomination and re-election. All but the most senior politicians have little control over re-nomination. Re-election may be determined by the broader electoral context and how their party fares and how it views the regional, caste, and religious landscape (Schwindt-Bayer, 2005). It may also be influenced by issues of reputation, performance, and media presence. In this section, we explore what happens to women MPs at the end of their term—are they re-nominated? If so, do they contest with the same party, in the same constituency and what works for their re-election? If they are not re-nominated, why is this? Is it based on a personal choice to step down, the party’s choice of another candidate, both, or something else? Speaking about re-nomination, several of our interviewees felt aggrieved; one said: Parties keep changing their view … now even within our party women get unwinnable seats—she loses, then they say women lose, then they [men] start saying that women should stay at home; I say we can do both—look after the family and work in politics. (MP47, 3 March 2006)

And another MP told us, ‘Party leaders discriminate against women … if she loses, reconfirming is a problem. Harne ka haq sirf admiyon ko he [the right to lose is only for men]’ (MP50, 20 March 2006). Schwindt-Bayer’s study of political representation across 33 countries with varying electoral systems and institutional and socio-economic

306

Performing Representation

contexts suggests that ‘incumbency is a key obstacle to women’s election across all kinds of political systems’ because women are a minority group in elected bodies, and are, thus, predominantly challengers rather than incumbents (2005: 240). Studies of women’s entry into electoral politics in the UK have suggested that incumbency, in the form of the retention of elected representatives through re-nomination and subsequently reelection can pose limitations for the entry of new candidates, particularly women and minority candidates (Norris, 2006). Many electoral systems disproportionately advantage those already elected because they have demonstrated they can win, and have access to resources to distribute, compared to a new candidate. An incumbent, if willing to contest again, will be assumed as the first choice come election time. If the majority of elected representatives are mostly men, and incumbency effect favours those already elected, women will find it harder to increase their presence in political institutions when only a minority of seats become available to new candidates. However, this is not entirely the experience of women politicians in India; while women may find it similarly harder to get nominated in the first place, (both men and) women incumbents can often find it more difficult to retain their seats (Farooqui and Sridharan 2014).2 As one of our interviewees narrated, she was forced out of the seat that her father held before her and despite the support of the central party leadership had to contest from another seat (MP22, 2 December 2005; see also Chapter 2). Let us now analyse how incumbency affected our interviewees and women MPs in Lok Sabha elections. Women Incumbents and Lok Sabha Elections (2004–14)

To recall, the distinction between re-nomination and re-election is important when considering sustainability: the party (and, to some extent, the candidate) decides the first, voters the second. For example, the 2009 election saw a majority of incumbent women MPs from the 14th Lok Sabha—35 of 51 women MPs or 69 per cent—re-nominated

2 Farooqui and Sridharan argue that centralized parties have higher re-nomination rates: for example, in the processes of re-nomination in the three major national parties, Congress, BJP, and CPI(M), past performance plays a critical role, with ‘the majority of incumbents being re-nominated in the post-1989 period’ (2014: 78).

Sustaining Participation

307

to contest the 15th Lok Sabha election.3 These included women MPs who were either elected to the 14th Lok Sabha in 2004, or elected subsequently in bye-elections. In 2014, the overwhelming majority of women incumbents re-contested: 52 out of the 60 elected incumbent women MPs, or 87 per cent, a much higher proportion than in 2009 (see Table 9.1). Both BJP and Congress re-nominated nearly all of their sitting women MPs.4 These figures potentially suggest two things: first, that because women represent a relatively smaller pool of available candidates, parties will be more likely to re-nominate incumbents, and second, that parties may nominate relatively more women in strongholds and so their likelihood of success will be higher and more will be re-elected. In 2009, more than half of those re-contesting were re-elected (20 women, or 57 per cent), meaning that just under 40 per cent of the incumbent women MPs from the 14th Lok Sabha were re-elected to the 15th Lok Sabha.5 When we compare this to male MPs’ rates of re-election we see that in 2009 women had slightly higher re-nomination and re-election rates (among those re-contesting) than for male incumbents. The proportion of male incumbents re-contesting in 2009 was slightly lower (33 men or 61 per cent compared to 69 per cent among women).6 The proportion of male incumbents re-elected was even lower at only around a quarter 3 This is a slightly higher re-nomination and re-election rate than for male incumbents. Based on a 10 per cent random non-weighted sample of male incumbents elected in 2004 (n = 54), the proportion of male incumbents recontesting in 2009 was slightly lower (33 or 61 per cent) but the proportion re-elected was only around a quarter of incumbents (24 per cent). While this is a small sample, and a larger sample would reflect male incumbency rates more accurately, we think our analysis still holds, although we need further exploration. 4 At the end of the 15th Lok Sabha there were 61 sitting women MPs including Ingrid McLeod. McLeod was a nominated MP, not an elected MP, so is excluded from the figure used to calculate the proportion of women incumbents re-nominated and re-elected, that is, 60 elected women incumbents rather than 61 total women incumbents. 5 In 2014, 19 of the 52 incumbents re-contesting were re-elected—a reelection rate of over one-third (37 per cent). This was much lower than in 2009, but this is less surprising, given the change of government overall and the fact that many incumbent women MPs were members of Congress. 6 Based on a 10 per cent random non-weighted sample of all male incumbents elected in 2004 (n = 54).

308

Performing Representation

Table 9.1 Women Incumbents Re-contesting and Re-elected: 14th to 15th Lok Sabha (2009) and 15th to 16th Lok Sabha (2014)

End of 14th Lok Sabha/Start of 15th Lok Sabha (2009)

End of 15th Lok Sabha/Start of 16th Lok Sabha (2014)

51

61

35 (69%)

51 (84%)

20

19

As proportion of all women incumbents

39%

32%

As proportion of those contesting

57%

37%

Total women incumbents Women incumbents re-contesting Women incumbents re-elected

Source: Calculated by the authors using data from ECI and the Lok Sabha Secretariat website.

of those re-contesting (24 per cent among men compared to 37 per cent among women). Farooqui and Sridharan (2014: 92) calculate that over 1991–2009, the Congress in particular re-nominated 68 per cent of its incumbent MPs on average, fluctuating in recent elections between 77 per cent (1999), 64 per cent (2004), and 71 per cent (2009). For BJP they estimate an average nomination rate of 76 per cent for incumbents (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014: 94), though this may have changed in 2014, reflecting changes in BJP’s leadership (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014).7 While this is a small sample, and a larger sample would reflect male incumbency rates more accurately, it potentially suggests two things: if parties are serious about women’s political participation, and because women represent a relatively smaller pool of available candidates, they are more likely to re-nominate women incumbents; where party leadership is more centralized, they are also more likely to follow through. Related to this, parties are likely to nominate 7 However, see Alva (2016: 259) for a discussion as to Congress’s limits on re-nomination of MPs for consecutive terms in the Rajya Sabha. See also the CPM’s recent denial of a third Rajya Sabha term to senior party MP Sitaram Yechury in part due to party norms on re-nomination (The Economic Times, 2017).

Sustaining Participation

309

women in strongholds to give them a greater likelihood of success of re-election. These are tentative suggestions that need further exploration, not least because the picture appears to be different for the 2014 election to the 16th Lok Sabha. Among male MPs, 150 incumbents of the 15th Lok Sabha were re-elected to the 16th Lok Sabha; in comparison 19 women MPs were re-elected—which is around 31 per cent of male MPs and 29 per cent of female MPs. This re-election rate includes all incumbents, not just those who were re-nominated; but if we justifiably assume that not all incumbents were re-nominated, the re-election rate for only recontesting male incumbents can only be higher than 31 per cent. What role does prior experience play in the re-nomination process? Among non-incumbent women candidates are there any political novices? The 2009 and 2014 elections present a contrast in terms of the collective experience of women MPs. Around half of the women MPs elected to the 15th Lok Sabha in 2009 had some previous experience in the lower house, either as incumbents (20) or having served in a previous Lok Sabha (9). This is broadly similar for all MPs, men and women combined, during the 15th Lok Sabha, which saw 302 first-time Lok Sabha MPs elected, about 55 per cent (PRS Legislative Research, 2014). Of the remaining half, seven women MPs had experience of serving in either the Rajya Sabha or the state legislative assemblies, meaning only around a third of the women MPs (22) elected in 2009 had no experience of national- or state-level legislative institutions. In 2014, like in the previous Parliament, more than half of all Lok Sabha MPs (58 per cent), men and women combined, were first-time members of the Lok Sabha. However, this time a greater proportion of women MPs were new to the Lok Sabha (40 of 62, or 64.5 percent) (LARRDIS, 2014). Around a third of the women MPs elected to the 16th Lok Sabha in 2014 (19 of 62) had been members of the previous Parliament, and another three had served a previous term but not in the previous Parliament. Among those with previous terms (22), most women MPs (15) had served only one term. Among all 62 women MPs, about a quarter (16) had previous experience in state legislative assemblies, and four women MPs listed experience in the Rajya Sabha. But just under half of the women MPs had no experience in national- or state-level politics (though some had experience at the panchayat level). In terms of political parties, just over half of the re-elected women MPs in 2014 were from BJP, reflecting the party’s success. These included two senior BJP women MPs, the outgoing leader of the opposition, Sushma

310

Performing Representation

Swaraj, and erstwhile BJP minister Sumitra Mahajan, who was returning for her eighth term in the Lok Sabha and was elected as speaker of the house. Almost two-thirds of BJP’s women MPs were in the Lok Sabha first time (19 of 30), whereas nine were sitting MPs who were re-elected, and a further one had served a previous term. The most experienced women MPs in the 16th Lok Sabha were from BJP: Sumitra Mahajan (seven terms); Maneka Gandhi (six terms); Uma Bharti (five terms); and Sushma Swaraj (three terms, matching Sonia Gandhi’s three terms). Almost two-thirds of women incumbents re-contesting lost their election in 2014, reflecting (partly) the change of government and the heavy defeat for the Congress. Party president, Sonia Gandhi, was re-elected, becoming one of only four women Congress MPs in the new Lok Sabha and, of course, the most powerful. However, 21 incumbent Congress women MPs lost the election, including the Lok Sabha speaker, Meira Kumar. Another three women MPs from other parties—Uma Bharti (BJP), Ranjeet Ranjan (Rashtriya Janata Dal [RJD]), and Mehbooba Mufti (J&K PDP)—had previously served a term in the Lok Sabha but were not incumbents. The one woman MP from the Shiv Sena had three previous terms. Among the Trinamul Congress women MPs in the opposition, most were new to the Lok Sabha (8 of 11) with the other three having served one term each in the previous Parliament. Political parties are, thus, the most important factor in the re-nomination of women. In India, the proliferation of political parties at the national and state levels has meant that small parties, which tend to be more male-dominated and less gender-sensitive, are adversely affecting re-nomination rates for women. Political parties also affect the levels of collaboration across party lines; as Barnes has argued, When party leaders have more control over legislative behaviour, women are unlikely to behave differently than their male colleagues … As the male-dominated party leadership controls access to resources [including re-nomination] in these institutions that are important for career advancement, women are under more pressure to exhibit party loyalty if they want to ensure their political careers. (2016: 39–40)

Our findings confirm that (a) incumbency does not guarantee reelection, either because the incumbent is not re-nominated by their party or because they are re-nominated but not elected; (b) for centralized parties, past performance plays a role in nominations, the majority of incumbents being re-nominated (Farooqui and Sridharan, 2014: 78); (c) the majority of members, both men and women, in both the 15th

Sustaining Participation

311

and 16th Lok Sabhas were newly elected members and not incumbents; and (d) the fate of incumbents re-contesting depends on the fate of their parties in each election. Struggles for Re-nomination: Stories Told and Untold

One interesting issue for the re-nomination debate is that of mobility between different levels of representative politics. A small number of women MPs had already been successfully elected to state assemblies prior to the general election such as Mehbooba Mufti in Jammu and Kashmir and Neeta Pateriya in Madhya Pradesh, both elected in 2008. Thus, their participation in electoral politics was not interrupted but transferred to a different institutional setting. Kiran Maheswari’s career illustrates this complex scalar movement very well. Maheswari was active in state politics and became the first woman mayor of Udaipur on a reserved seat for women. She then became a member of the 14th Lok Sabha for Udaipur, by defeating the incumbent Congress MP, Girija Vyas, but resigned her seat early following her victory in the Rajasthan assembly election in December 2008 (Indian Express, 2008). Only a few months later, however, she contested the 2009 Lok Sabha election from the Ajmer constituency as Udaipur became reserved for STs in the delimitation exercise prior to the 2009 election. She lost this election against Congress candidate Sachin Pilot, the son of late senior politician Rajesh Pilot. Maheswari, who became national general secretary of BJP after being president of her party’s women’s wing, resumed her seat in the Rajasthan assembly, and was re-elected to the assembly in the state election in 2013. On the one hand, her case shows the versatility among women politicians in moving between state and national politics, and suggests that parties might rely on some women as well as some men to win in important seats depending on where they are needed. On the other hand, it illustrates the risks involved in chasing successive electoral victories and how parties may use successful women MPs for short-term gains but with less concern for the sustainability of those women’s political careers. Some incumbent women MPs are willing to re-contest but are not re-nominated by their party. For example, in the 2009 election, in a controversial decision, Jayaben Thakkar of BJP was not re-nominated to contest in the constituency of Vadodara, Gujarat, from where she had been elected all three times in the last three Lok Sabha elections

312

Performing Representation

(1998, 1999, and 2004). One explanation given related to party leadership disciplining her: she and some other party representatives had spoken out against Narendra Modi in the preceding assembly election. A second explanation is that BJP was reportedly keen to give party nominations to ‘fresh faces’, replacing a number of sitting MPs. A third explanation related to the importance of community affiliation among voters: Thakkar was not re-nominated because she could not claim to compete for votes from the dominant Patel community unlike her rival Congress candidate. All three reasons are largely speculative, but the first two might give us a clue about why Thakkar was not selected to contest in a different constituency. Some women MPs find that they have been ousted by their parliamentary colleagues. For example, Santosh Chowdhary, the incumbent for Hoshiarpur, Punjab, and union minister of state for health and family welfare, was not re-nominated by the Congress in 2014. Instead, Mohinder Singh Kaypee, the incumbent male MP for Jalandhar, was nominated by the party in Chowdhary’s constituency. Santosh was reportedly not at all happy with this and accused Kaypee of betraying her through a ‘breach of trust’ because, she claimed, he had earlier told her he would contest his own constituency or none at all (cited in Kaur, 2014). She said she did not blame the party leadership (Kaur, 2014). An article in the same newspaper a month earlier noted the fierce competition for her seat from at least four other sources within the party organization (Yadav and Kaur, 2014). Some women find themselves nominated only to have the nomination later rescinded (see also Chapter 3 on campaign sabotage). In 2014, Sarika Singh Baghel, sitting MP for Hathras in UP from the Samajwadi Party, was initially re-nominated before her nomination was rescinded, reportedly because her husband allegedly made some insulting comments about the party leader Mulayam Singh Yadav (Times of India, 2014). In 2014, only nine of the elected women MPs from the 15th Lok Sabha did not re-contest. Some women incumbents decided to step aside for a family member (an inversion of the common stereotype of women inheriting their nomination from a male relative). In Aligarh, UP, for example, BSP MP Raj Kumari Chauhan’s son, then only 25, contested instead of her, but lost to the BJP candidate. The same occurred in Kairana in UP, with Begum Tabassum Hasan, from BSP, and J. Shantha, the BJP incumbent for Bellary, Karnataka, who stepped aside for her brother, B. Sriramalu.

Sustaining Participation

313

While re-nomination is a critical issue for the sustainability of careers of women MPs, other issues related to work are also important for the sustainability of their participation in political and parliamentary life. We now proceed to address these.

Challenges of Sustaining a Political Career Women MPs face a number of challenges in sustaining their political careers and are able to garner different, often gendered and classed, support networks in order to do so. In this section, we explore these challenges but also argue for a greater responsibility of Parliament for training women to participate more effectively in its proceedings. Work–Life Balance

The IPU action plan on developing a gender-sensitive Parliament points to work–life balance as important for encouraging women to join politics. We also see this as an important issue for the sustainability of women’s parliamentary careers. In this section, we address this question by first examining the pressures of maintaining a work–life balance in the context of gendered segregated familial roles that intersect in important ways with class and caste. We then return to the family as a source of support—this time not in terms of accessing politics (see Chapter 2), but in terms of supporting women MPs to continue their careers in politics. On challenges of work–life–family balance as an MP, a former CPI(M) MP told us: I happened to be married with a ten-year-old daughter. Spouses and families of male MPs would stay with them in Delhi for long periods. But it was logistically impossible for my family to do the same and even when I was back home I had little time for my family because I had to go around my constituency. This situation is always more difficult for a woman than for a man. However, I still do not regret that I took the plunge and did my job as well as I could for 7 years. (Written correspondence with MP6, 6 June 2015)

The issue here is not one of logistics but of gendered roles; women often put their careers on hold for their husbands (MP15, 16 December 2006, Chapter 2); men do not. It is often said that women prefer to participate in local rather than national politics; gendered dislocations and their

314

Performing Representation

effects on their everyday lives would be one reason for such preference. As Sikata Banerjee writes: In actuality, by entering the public world, women increase their workday. Therefore, it is easier for unmarried women with no children or married women with older children and a supportive husband to succeed in electoral politics. These conditions, by definition, decrease the number of women able to run for political office considerably. (2007: 47–8)

This is what one of our interviewees had to say about her day, as she entered the fray of parliamentary politics: ‘It was so hectic! I came back [from campaigning] at 2.30 a.m. and left again at 5 a.m.; I had only 2–3 hours of sleep, but I had to do this’ (MP24, 6 December 2005). Hence the advice that a senior MP gave to aspiring women politicians (see Chapter 2): nurture the family before entering politics, and the family will nurture your career. At the same time, despite the longer working day some MPs saw this as an opportunity: Men, when they are elected, they shift their HQ and their families to Delhi, so their presence in the constituency is not there. But when women get elected, the husband and family doesn’t shift, so she spends more time in the constituency because she wants to go back every weekend and festivals. So the men do the foreign trips. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

Work–life balance then is a complex issue that can only be calibrated by addressing both institutional and social norms. The institutional norms can be shifted within Parliament by making it gender sensitive; but does this happen? Training MPs: The Place of Backstage in Political Staging

In Chapter 8 we argued that leadership is not inherent but can be learnt. We further argued that this learning can take place at different levels, and in different institutional settings. Finally, we argue that women’s networks can be good learning sites. We have also argued that the performance of MPs is dependent upon performative labour—learning to participate effectively and to lead (see the Introduction); training is part of this learning and of performative labour. One former woman MP, Krishna Bose, who was first elected to Parliament in 1996 (11th Lok Sabha), recalled that she received very little party or Parliament-based training: I quietly learnt how to negotiate the various Parliamentary rules and procedures. My party, the Indian National Congress, did not have any

Sustaining Participation

315

infrastructure to train or help newly elected members, nor did the leadership really care. So I learnt my Parliamentary skills the hard way and in the long run that was probably a good thing. I learnt to submit questions which ministers were bound to answer either orally or in writing. I learnt to ask supplementary questions by raising my hand. I also came to know how to raise important issues during zero hour. (Bose, 2008: 99–100)

If we agree that leadership is not inherent in individuals and that it can be learned, training can become a key resource for women leaders at all levels—an alertness to formal and informal informational flows, for example, could be part of leadership training. Training also allows women to come together to discuss political and personal issues. The space made available for training becomes a political space of interaction, support, and networking. However, there is also the need to sustain such training and networking possibilities over time. However, there is some evidence that state support for training withers as soon as women begin to challenge the dominant social order, leading to great demoralization among women and even putting women leaders in danger of violence (Madhok and Rai, 2012). The issue of training is also important as it allows us to examine Parliament’s backstage—the organizations that offer support and advice to the members of the Indian Parliament and help with bringing order after disruptions on the floor of the House. Their work is important but often not recognized and, therefore, also not scrutinized. These organizations could be of great help to new MPs, especially women MPs, as they make their way through their early careers in Parliament; but are they? In this section we outline the organizational profile of the Bureau of Parliamentary Studies and Training (BPST) whose mandate is to provide training and support to the MPs. In Chapter 5 we briefly touched upon the issue of training for leadership. We noted that women MPs do not get any particular institutional support separate from men. This despite it being well established that men speak and participate far more in Parliament than women MPs do (see Chapter 5). If re-nomination depends on building a public profile and reputation as a good parliamentarian, then training could provide support to women MPs. BPST ‘was set up on the 1st of January 1976 as an integral part of the Lok Sabha Secretariat to provide parliamentarians, parliamentary staff and others with institutionalized opportunities for systematic training in the various disciplines of parliamentary institutions, processes

316

Performing Representation

and procedures’.8 Its personnel are recruited from the independent Parliamentary Service under the aegis of the Lok Sabha Secretariat. Its main role is to (a) offer orientation courses to new MPs; (b) offer capacity building on an ongoing basis to all MPs through organizing lecture series, language, and IT programmes; (c) offer research facilities to MPs; (d) prepare and vet speeches for members who are participants in delegations going abroad in order to provide the correct governmental position on specific issues (these speeches are vetted by the relevant ministries for the BPST); and (e) provide capacity building services to the legislative services of other countries.9 ‘Capacity building is an ongoing process … we need to support the members throughout their time in Parliament’, said an official of the BPST and Conference and Protocol Wing (interview, Joint Secretary Lok Sabha Secretariat overseeing BPST, 23 February 2010). The Bureau organizes a week-long orientation programme to introduce new members to the procedural intricacies of the lower and upper houses10. The curriculum focuses on the legislative processes and how the members can contribute to the quality of legislation, the budgetary process, how to ask questions, and the procedural devices that the members can use to intervene effectively in debates in the house, and the role of the committees, especially DRSTs—which were introduced in 1993 and can hold the executive accountable, have parliamentary privileges and immunity. Veteran members are pressed into giving lectures and holding Q&A sessions; this ensures credibility and quality of the programme. Short pamphlets, called ‘scripts’, are produced on different aspects of the programme curriculum and distributed to members. 8 See http://164.100.47.194/bpstnew/aim1.aspx, last accessed on 7 May 2018. 9 See http://164.100.47.194/bpstnew/aim1.aspx, last accessed on 7 May 2018. 10 The topics generally covered in orientation programmes include: ‘Problems Faced by New Members’; ‘How to Be an Effective Legislator?’; ‘Parliamentary Customs, Conventions and Etiquette’; ‘Privileges of Legislatures and Their Members’; ‘Parliamentary Committees, with Special Reference to Departmentally Related Standing Committees’; ‘Financial Committees’; ‘Parliament Questions’; ‘Procedural Devices Available to Members to Raise Matters of Urgent Public Importance on the Floor of the House’; ‘Legislative Process’; ‘Budgetary Process’; ‘Amenities and Facilities Available to Members’, and others, available at http://164.100.47.194/bpstnew/prolagislator1.aspx, last accessed 10 July 2017.

Sustaining Participation

317

Despite the considerable effort that is put towards organizing the orientation course—top academics, policy–makers, and media people are invited to give these lectures—the attendance is not as great as it could be. Of the over 300 new MPs in the 15th Lok Sabha, only 125–90 members attended the course in 2009. This lack of attendance in the formally organized courses in Parliament was attributed to two things: First, increasingly parties also organize some orientation events, which the MPs find more useful in terms of networking with other new members and the party leaders involved in these programme. Second, the lack of interest in the orientation programme and the lecture series in particular is attributed to the oft-discussed issue of ‘falling standards’ of members who make it to Parliament—the vernacularization of Parliament (Hewitt and Rai, 2010) has meant that there is now a far greater cross-section of people represented in Parliament rather than in the early Parliaments dominated by highly educated, professional, middle-class members. Many members cannot speak English, some are uncomfortable with Hindi (the national language) and prefer their regional language, and while the formal education level of the current Parliament is higher than ever before, the interest in engaging with intellectual debates or with the formalities of procedures and etiquette is declining (see later for more on this issue). For women MPs, an additional issue is that there is no special programme organized to meet their needs for training. As the chair of the CEW told us: There is nothing special for women MPs; I don’t know whether they want to be treated differently once they are Parliament. Now you have made this suggestion, we can ask [BPST] about it. The main problem is that regional parties are coming into Parliament and language has become a problem. Only English and Hindi, two languages, are used in Parliament; training becomes a problem as a result. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

If Parliament does not provide special training for women MPs, then do they get support from their parties? The evidence is mixed. An AIDMK MP explained to us, ‘There are too many things going on when one gets to Parliament; one has to choose. In the party programmes we meet other members with whom we will be sitting in the house … it is more comfortable’ (MP38, 19 December 2006). Many women MPs we interviewed pointed to their early training in what are cadre-based parties such as BJP and CPI(M): Hum neeve ka nirman karte hein (we lay the foundations [in RSS camps]). We train MPS and MLAs both; however many times you might be elevated [to an elected position] you must go to those party camps—in the

318

Performing Representation

Parliament training camps, it is just the constitutional provisions that are introduced to us; in BJP and RSS camps we learn about language, body language, how to speak. How … Party’s ideas are linked to specific policies? (MP39, 6 February 2006)

Party training can also undermine cross-party work by women MPs: I like listening to them [other women party leaders on the WRB, for example]; we seem to have similar views on many issues … with Congress and even Communists, on women’s reservations … we all agree that without this [WRB] it is difficult for women to enter politics, but when we vote in Parliament then they vote according to party. (MP24, 6 December 2005)

Building alliances in their place of work then becomes difficult. At this point we wonder whether that space of the Ladies Room (Chapter 1) would provide a safe space for cross-party work among women MPs! Alas, no one mentioned this as a possibility; that gendered space is truly abandoned; or so it seems. In any case, a space where women can meet, interact, communicate, and grow is needed. The more open space of Central Hall does allow for communication across party and political boundaries, but also makes women more vulnerable to male party leaders’ scrutiny: ‘I remember sitting with Priya Ranjan Dasmunsi in Central Hall one day for a cup of coffee … A friend, who saw us, later cautioned me, ‘You have a bright future. Why are you annoying the “son” by sitting around with marked men like Priya?’ (Alva, 2016: 65). Yet this same space allowed Alva to bring her party members together: ‘I started getting Soniaji [Gandhi] to Central Hall for dosa–coffee sessions. Members of both Houses, and of all parties began to sit around her for informal exchanges. MPs and journalists began looking forward to these tête-à-tête’ (2016: 305–6). Performing Gendered Collaboration

The numerical marginalization of women means that the avenues that women parliamentarians have in order to make claims on parliamentary resources—training, committee membership and leadership position, influencing legislature and getting re-nominated in winnable seats—are limited. This small number is further reduced in its effect when political parties make collaboration between them difficult; and yet such collaborative work could have important symbolic and substantive effects, allowing women MPs to build solidarities that would generate institutional

Sustaining Participation

319

support. Maxine Molyneux made the distinction between strategic and practical interests which allow women to collaborate on some (practical) interests, even as other (strategic) interests do not allow for such cooperation (1985). Cross-party networks can provide an agenda-setting function by ‘linking up’ women’s knowledges as well as organizations and individuals. Sharing experiences of initiating change, of institutional sexism, of strategies that work or do not work in dealing with differences among women, and of sources of funding, of information can all help women in political life to survive and perform to the best of their ability. Further, as Sperling, Ferree, and Risman have argued, the resources that networks can garner are not only financial ‘but may also include access, reputation, influence and other intangible benefits’ (2001: 1,159). As women’s networks often operate at multiple levels, women leaders can benefit from connections between the local and the national/regional and global networks. The scalar aspect of leadership is also important when we study the leadership training that women receive. For example, at the level of gram panchayats, where many women might not be educated, one element in generating effective leadership could be access to information. Often women’s participation in political institutions is undermined by lack of information on specific issues and training to best use the information that is garnered. However, even at the level of Parliament or corporate organizations, formal and informal networks are often employed to circulate and consolidate information—going out for a drink after work, socializing on golf weekends, attending parties, for example. Of course, these networks form through socializing as well, but the norms that guide network practices remain gendered. In an analysis of this issue in the context of Argentina, Barnes argues that women collaborate to overcome marginalization and to overcome structural barriers and to exert more influence in policy-making (2016: 33). She also notes that weak party constraints over MPs’ results in more collaborative work; a male-dominated party leadership results in greater disciplining of cross-party work (2016: 37, 39) and that seniority matters—‘women with previous experience in the legislature [are] more likely to defy party norms than their junior colleagues’ (43), which makes the issue of re-nomination and incumbency even more important. Finally, she argues that women’s membership of committees facilitates coordination among women (44). In our work we find several threads of Barnes’s analysis as accurate but also many that we did not find much evidence for, again emphasizing the importance of context— institutional as well as social. For example, serving on the CEW did not

320

Performing Representation

seem to bridge party differences (MP24, 6 December 2005). One of the important areas of collaborative work that we saw was on quota legislation. As we have discussed earlier, we saw a marked shift in the position of women MPs on this important issue; those who were clearly against quotas as a strategy for addressing women’s marginality in Parliament in 1994, were by 2004 for quotas; this radical shift was across the right–left political divide. The bill to reserve 33 per cent of seats for women in Parliament and State Assemblies was introduced in 1996; it has still not been passed by the Lok Sabha, although it was passed by Rajya Sabha in 2010.11 The reason some political parties gave for opposing the bill was that ‘“This bill aims at depriving the backward castes and Muslims of the chance of getting elected. It will only help elite upper caste women get elected,” Sharad Yadav had said’.12 Despite this opposition to the bill, in our interviews some women MPs of these parties were also in favour of reservations—although with more caveats than others. Like Barnes, we also found that senior MPs had more clout and were able to stand together on this issue; women MPs who were leaders in their parties—Sonia Gandhi, Sushma Swaraj, Brinda Karat, and of course Geeta Mukherjee—were able to inspire and mobilize other women MPs to stand together to support this bill. Describing the performance of solidarity in Parliament, Alva states: One of the big battles we fought in the House was for the passage of the Women’ Reservation Bill … After being introduced in 1996, the bill had gone to a Joint Select Committee—headed by senior CPI MP, Geeta Mukherjee—of which I was member. It lapsed when the United Front government fell. Then in 1999 … Law Minister Ram Jethmalani sought to introduce the bill. Before he could do so, the bill was snatched out of his hands by a member of the Samajwadi Party (SP) and torn … We organized marches to Parliament, with huge demonstrations on Parliament Street, and dharnas and sit-ins … the bill was listed again … Women MPs supporting the bill got into the Well of the House and formed a chain to prevent members of the SP RJD … to oppose the proposed legislation—from getting to Ram Jethmalani … Renuka Chowdhury and I stood in front of 11

See cross-party women MPs celebrating the passing of the Women’s Reservation Bill WRB in the Rajya Sabha at https://thewire.in/66260/womensreservation-bill-in-lok-sabha/, last accessed on 7 May 2017, last accessed on 14 June 2018. 12 http://www.firstpost.com/india/pm-modi-wants-women-led-development-but-what-about-the-womens-reservation-bill-2659976.html, last accessed on 14 June 2018.

Sustaining Participation

321

Mulayam Singh Yadav … Renuka [said] ‘We will block you here and the women of India will throw you out in the elections’. (2016: 302)

But the bill still languishes and parties that oppose it have been successful in thwarting efforts to reintroduce it. Whether it was the performed solidarity and persistence of the women MPs or the changing political landscape outside Parliament more generally, one of the parties opposing the bill, JD(U), withdrew its opposition to the bill in 2016. So, our analysis shows that while party discipline prevents women MPs to vote against party line on individual pieces of legislation, the performance of solidarity may have some effect on the terms of debate and sometimes even on party policy. Solidarity across party lines also generates an affect that sustains women MPs’ morale; said one MP: ‘We do work together. Take the example of floods in Mumbai … In the house people might shout at each other, but individually we work very well together … it helps’ (MP13, 29 November 2005). Thus far we have focused on the sustainability of women’s participation in Parliament. While it is important to analyse continuing participation of women in parliamentary life and the sources of support they draw upon to do so, it is also important to reflect upon processes of disengagement. Tales of Stepping Down: Modes of Leaving Public Office

Terms of disengagement are important not only because they affect the chances of women politicians returning to Parliament, but also because of how women look back on their political careers. Reviewing her life as an MP, a CPI(M) member wrote to us: After my second defeat I was sure that the party should project a new face and I refused to contest again. It was not a difficult transition because I had not given up my academic career for good and had always intended to return to it and to serve the party in its extra-parliamentary work as I had been doing earlier. I had not even thought of being an MP as a career option, for me it was a political task given to me by my party and I had to give it my best while I was there. So for me this was the challenge in my role as a parliamentarian, but I felt that work that could be done outside the Parliament was equally important. However, I was fully committed to my parliamentary work while I was there and look back to it as a huge learning experience and an opportunity for forging links with people. I still feel very happy today when people come up to me to remind me of how I had helped or supported them when I was an MP. (Written correspondence with MP6, 6 June 2015)

322

Performing Representation

Some other MPs are less sanguine; perhaps because they have enjoyed their time in Parliament—the importance that is attached to their position, the new experiences of foreign travel, and the satisfaction of helping others—and do not have an alternative to look forward to. In her autobiography, Margaret Alva writes of the bitterness that filled her heart when she lost her seat; she speaks in terms of ingratitude (of her constituents) and betrayal (by her party members): After my defeat, I was hurt by the ingratitude of the voters; the women I had done so much for had been won over with small nose rings, which they were told were of gold … I was frustrated that religion had become a huge factor … ‘A vote for Alva is a vote for Rome; a vote for the BJP is a vote for Ram!’ (2016: 316)

Senior politicians are better looked after by political parties; important dynastic connections also help. When an MP loses their seat, they lose not just a position in Parliament, but they also lose their social circle, their role in the party, and of course their considerable perks, and most importantly, their home in New Delhi (see also Chapter 7). It is, thus, incumbent upon them to relocate not just their political life but also their material everyday worlds. Margaret Alva describes this moment: I had no place of my own in Delhi … I told him that the post of Advisor, BPST was vacant, and if the Speaker agreed, I would like it. The job would give me a residence, a PA and telephone, with an office in the Parliament House complex. (2016: 319, 321)

As a senior politician she was given an alternative role in the Congress which allowed her to continue in politics—she became first the president of AICC and then governor of Rajasthan. Others, who did not have the status or a strong family support or seniority in the party, have disappeared once they lost their seat. So, sustainability matters not only in the continuing presence of women in Parliament, not solely because they like their work and wish to continue, but also at the time of leaving Parliament—the longer an MP has been in Parliament, the more senior their position in the party, the greater the chance that they will be better able to negotiate their disengagement to their satisfaction.

Limits of ‘Gender-Sensitive Parliament’ While the IPU framework of gender-sensitive parliaments provides a good checklist for institutional change, it has an inbuilt presumption of parliaments as being dis-embedded institutions. In its global focus, its

Sustaining Participation

323

evidentiary base and comparative analysis tend to privilege established democracies with welfare states as the benchmarks for gender-sensitive institutional norms. As we have shown, however, the Indian case is rather more complex and messy. Take, for example, the gender neutralization of the rules of Parliament; in the wake of the IPU launch of the gendersensitive parliament action plan, the 14th Lok Sabha Rules Committee in their Second Report recommended gender-neutral rules. The Rules Committee was chaired by the speaker of Lok Sabha at the time, Meira Kumar. The report was laid on the table of the Lok Sabha on 6 February 2014 and the gender-neutral rules came into force on 13 February 2014.13 This meant replacing words such as ‘chairman’ by ‘chairperson’ and the pronoun ‘he’ has been replaced by ‘he/she’ wherever it was ‘felt’ feasible. While this is an important symbolic move, the Hindutva politics of the BJP government is also reproducing the separate but equal gender ideology within Parliament; the speaker of the 16th Parliament had this to say to members of the 78th Conference of Presiding Officers of Legislative Bodies in India: Women are natural managers. Whether it is a family or society or public life, as a mother, daughter, wife, daughter in law, citizen and a working person, a woman can efficiently establish harmony in different circumstances, fields, roles and among members of a family … Apart from being Women Legislators, they have to fulfil the domestic responsibilities also … The same thing is about [women’s representation]. It is not because they are half population of the country, but because she is life giver-producer mother power [sic]. (Mahajan, 2016a: 224, 227)

The domestication of political life allows, as we argued in Chapters 2 and 8, for a negotiated presence of women in Parliament which does not challenge the gendered norms, despite symbolic moves like the one described earlier. Together with this ideological bias, as noted in Chapter 5, we also do not see any shift in the gendered behaviour of MPs, the distribution of time allocated to women, and the role that much of the media plays in reproducing gendered narratives of women in Parliament. IPU’s gender-sensitive Parliament would also be a gender-balanced Parliament. This, of course, builds on the ‘critical mass’ argument discussed in an earlier chapter. The presumption here is, of course, that 13

As per procedural requirements, if no amendments to recommendations are made with regard to the amendments to Rules of Procedure within seven working days of session, then the rules as recommended by the Rules Committee in their report come into force on the expiry of said seven days.

324

Performing Representation

greater number of women will change the culture of Parliament, allow for greater cross-party work, increase focus on gendered policy agendas and, therefore, improve gender-sensitive legislation. In answer to the question whether a higher level of women’s representation in the Rwandan parliament has led to a different style of parliamentary politics, Devlin and Elgie note the following: There has been no change in the working hours or calendar of parliament. In terms of the policy agenda, women’s issues are now raised more easily and more often than before, and there has been a strong advocacy of ‘international feminism’ by many deputies. However, increased women’s representation has had little effect on policy outputs. (2008: 237)

As we have discussed earlier (Chapters 2 and 3), the debate on WRB has been both bitter and has generated cross-party solidarity among women MPs, but the Indian Parliament is far from being gender balanced. We have also seen that although women in the Indian Parliament, like in the UK, for example, do raise issues related to women’s socio-economic and political position, the policy outcomes have not been reshaped radically (Squires and Wickham-Jones, 2001). In India too, we find that in the context of neoliberal framing of economic policy, women MPs have not been able to shift welfare policy in a gender-sensitive direction. The rollback of the MGNREGA, for example, which is adversely affecting millions of poor women, has not been opposed in Parliament and not by most right-wing and centre party women. As the economist Jayati Ghosh concludes, ‘The MGNREGA came into being not because of a benevolent government, but because of pressure from social movements and rural workers. Much more pressure will be needed now to save it’ (2015). The appalling rates of gender-based violence (including continuing state violence) and the feminization of poverty have resulted in meagre legislative activity, which is not supported by implementation infrastructures and systems of holding the police, army and bureaucracy to account. If numbers alone do not make for a gender-sensitive Parliament then what other building blocks are needed? Meintjes (2003) has shown that in South Africa, alliances between activists outside parliament and women deputies were important in passing the 1998 Domestic Violence Bill. As discussed in Chapter 6, in India this link has been tenuous and party dominated and women’s autonomous groups have often felt let down by party interests being put first (see Baxi, 2013 on the rollback after the after the Verma committee). Discussing the case of the WRB, one senior woman MP said:

Sustaining Participation

325

The general objection is that 33% is too much; that it should be 15% for Parliament and 18–20% for state assemblies … I pleaded with activists to accept this. I said Sushma Swaraj or Mayawati will obviously fight from general seats; they will take the percentage up. The activists would not budge; they let us down by insisting on 33% or nothing. (MP2, 7 December 2005)

Women’s wings of political parties while able to generate some gender-equality demands are also circumscribed by party discipline.14 As Makhunga (2014) has argued in the context of South Africa, patronage politics and party loyalty among African National Congress women MPs have led to a ‘palliative care’ approach, which fails to address the causes of unequal gender relations in South Africa. Women MPs in India are also not autonomous actors and at critical moments—the 2002 antiMuslim riots in Gujarat, for example—they fail to take a stand against the party position, which further undermines their relationship with a wider autonomous women’s movement.15 One of the key actors in the gender-sensitive parliament is, therefore, the political parties. In the Indian Parliament, most national and some state-based parties have taken up and supported the WRB. This should mean that these parties are on board with the gender-sensitive Parliament agenda, but as our work in Chapter 5 has shown, male members from even these parties do not follow gender-sensitive norms—shouting women MPs down and making gender-insensitive comments continue, making it difficult for women MPs to participate fully in the work of Parliament. There has also not been visible change in terms of the timetabling of debates and making the internal workings of Parliament more gender sensitive.

Designing Democracy: What Is to Be Done? Legal and behavioural shifts are both limited but important to ensuring an equal presence and performance of women in parliaments. While 14

See also, for example, Brinda Karat’s support of the CPI(M) government’s position on the land acquisition of peasants in Nandigram (Krishnan, 2007). 15 Nirmala Sitharaman, the first woman defence minister, as a part of the Modi government, has, for example, been one of Modi’s ‘lead defenders against the Opposition’s attacks over the 2002 Gujarat pogrom’ in which sexualized communal violence saw more than 1,000 lives lost and over 2,000 injured. See https://www.telegraphindia.com/1170904/jsp/nation/story_170726.jsp, last accessed on 7 May 2018.

326

Performing Representation

a parliament is an institution that is embedded in the gendered social and cultural terrain, which is often not hospitable to women, it is also important to reflect upon how we might wish to change the performative modes within it. We suggest that treating parliament as a workplace could be one such way of bringing about institutional shifts that open possibilities of sustained and equal participation of women MPs in its work. For example, if we emphasize that Parliament is a workplace, it could lead to the implementation of The Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal) Act 2013.16 The Act underlined that eliminating sexual harassment at work will contribute to realization of their right to gender equality, life and liberty and equality in working conditions everywhere. The sense of security at the workplace will improve women’s participation in work, resulting in their economic empowerment and inclusive growth.

The Act seeks to ensure that ‘women are protected against sexual harassment at all the work places, be it in public or private’. It uses the Vishaka Guidelines of the Supreme Court of India which interpreted the following as ‘unwelcome sexually determined behaviour’ (whether directly or by implication): 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Physical contact and advances. A demand or request for sexual favours. Sexually coloured remarks. Showing pornography. Any other unwelcome physical, verbal, or non-verbal conduct of sexual nature. The Act makes it incumbent upon organizations and workplaces to

1. provide a safe working environment; 2. constitute the Internal Complaints Committee (ICC); 3. display the penal consequences of sexual harrassment at a conspicuous place in the workplace; 4. organize orientation programmes for the members of the ICC; and 5. organize awareness programmes for employees.

16

The Act superseded the Vishaka Guidelines outlined by the Supreme Court in 1997 in Vishaka and Others vs State of Rajasthan and Others.

Sustaining Participation

327

Although the Act mentions public institutions such as hospitals and sports bodies, it does not, however, specifically mention any representative bodies. If Parliament was to take seriously the Act that it passed, it would need to gender train its members, for example, by making BPST incorporate gender-equality and gendered performance modules and scripts into its training; it could make all members and officials aware of the consequences of non-compliance with the provisions of the Act and, as required by the Act, display these consequences at prominent places in Parliament. It could then also establish a complaints committee to which members could appeal if needed. This is clearly not the case—we saw no such display alerting members and institutional officers about the importance of the Act’s provision, and as we have examined in Chapters 3 and 4, verbal harassment of women members continues. If legal remedies are ignored in Parliament, what other means might be used to address the work and workings of Parliament such that it becomes a gender-sensitive institution? Bohnet suggests that we can design gender equality by pursuing some practical strategies (2016). While our argument throughout the book has been that a contextual analysis of Parliament is needed to address the gender question, we do acknowledge that behavioural change is needed within the institution for women MPs to be able to participate in parliamentary performance to the best of their abilities. We suggest, therefore, that women’s sustainability in Parliament can be addressed by pursuing the following: 1. Increasing Numbers This is important for creating ‘critical mass’— without this ‘the minority might not challenge majority view point even when wrong for the task. This also undermines a supportive culture as minorities feel they cannot support others like them [sic]’ (Bohnet, 2016: 231–2). An increase in numbers can be ‘fasttracked’ as Dahlerup and Friedenvall have argued, through quotas (2006); WRB then becomes an important strategy for increasing numbers. Increased numbers also create more role models: ‘Seeing Is Believing’—‘The fewer role models (who may also have served as mentors or sponsors) there were, the fewer female associates were promoted or stayed in the firm’ (Bohnet, 2016: 211–12; see also Chapter 8). As we have seen earlier, our interviewees also benefited from having role models in Parliament or their parties. We also saw that senior women were able to take an independent stand more easily than junior MPs. The issue of women in leadership (Chapter 8) is, therefore, particularly useful in this regard—as role models and

328

Performing Representation

as ‘critical actors’. So, numbers matter; as do individual actors, role models, and leaders. 2. Shaping Performances Numbers are important but not sufficient. As we have argued earlier, increasing numbers and gender equality do not always align—gender roles can be maintained even while rightwing parties’ support increased numbers of women in Parliament on grounds of efficiency, honesty, and traditional values. However, if we take the argument about numbers seriously, then having more women in Parliament—from different political parties—could have a norm-shifting effect. This norm shifting can also be helped along by effective performances that are underpinned by more women in Parliament; making ‘public and visible how well we do with a diverse cohort … might also promote convergence on a new norm’ (Bohnet: 257). Previously we have argued that a performance of solidarity across party boundaries may help women MPs pursue their political goals. When the media picks up on this evidence, it can be a particularly powerful alignment for change. Also important could be the adoption of a legal obligation for the state to deliver on gender equality, for example, the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), and of India’s place on the various international rankings of gender equality, for example, the Gender Empowerment Measure (GEM). The mobilization of media to make ‘public and visible’ the importance of women’s work in Parliament and India’s position internationally could also be considered as a strategy for women’s groups. Bohnet suggests, ‘The more salient and visible information is, the more likely people are to notice … And the more information is put into a comparative context … the more people are able to understand it’ (2016: 267). This is as important in generating a convergence of gender equality norms outside Parliament—for the public—as it is within Parliament as an institution and a place of work. 3. Working Environment While we have noted the introduction of gender-neutral language in Parliament (also as a result of an international initiative such as the IPU gender-sensitive parliament), we need to consider other anti-discriminatory, anti-harassment, antibullying policies applicable to both MPs and other staff and to the media in reporting the work of MPs. A safe working environment is critically important for ensuring that women feel able to work to their best efforts over time. If we emphasize that Parliament is a workplace, without reifying it simply as a representative institution, we

Sustaining Participation

329

would be better able to address issues of health and safety, work–life balance and performative norms within its ambit. One way of generating debates on these issues could be regular diversity surveys in Parliament—on women’s experiences in working in Parliament and in their constituencies, which could include issues of language, caste, religion, and, of course, gender. This would provide transparency to the working of Parliament and hold parliamentary office-holders responsible for ensuring that women MPs feel able to work at their best in Parliament. This also may generate other changes as younger women may seek gendered spaces and provision for childcare in Parliament. (IPU, 2012) In this chapter we have sought to bring to light some issues about sustainability of participation of women in parliamentary politics. We have shown how this sustainability is very largely affected by party, institutional, and leadership norms. We have also suggested that treating Parliament as a place of work can open up avenues for gender-based reform. We suggest that opportunities of performing solidarity among women parliamentarians can also make visible their presence and their work inside Parliament and in the media, circumventing party constrains and generating spaces for making claims for gender equality within the institution. Of course, the threat of backlash is always there and often defeats the fragile coalitions that women MPs build on specific issues, but the very fact of forging alliances and performing these can open up new ways of doing politics.

Conclusion Performing Representation?

Why is it that only women have to answer to ‘are you representing women?’ … Whether I am or not I have an equal right to be there … I am not being kept out because I do or do not represent women. I am being kept out because I am a woman. If I’m a member of a right-wing party who doesn’t believe in women’s rights, I’m not going to be talking about women’s rights in parliament. I’m going to be representing my party … But because I’m a woman I’m not able to get into that institution … I believe a woman should [talk about women] … [and] I’ll represent that. But my colleague who is a woman may not … Why should she be kept out because she’s a woman? (Interview with MP18, 23 July 2009)

he Indian Parliament took shape in the heat of nationalist politics T that resulted in both independence for and partition of the country. As we have seen in Chapter 1, its establishment was a process—political, spatial, and material—that contained as well as reflected the identitybased groups and aspirations of citizens; the Parliament laid claim to be the manifestation of representative democracy to which independent Indian elites aspired. The performance of this representation, however, was another story altogether—those who laid foundations of this theatre of democracy may not have acknowledged its elitism but from the start it eschewed the radical possibilities of democracy for formal electoral representation. It is important to underscore, as Jayal has done, that these elites ‘sought to construct a political community that broadly conformed to the liberal-constitutional model of the west … Today, claims to group-differentiated [politics] are expressed in a vernacular register … Performing Representation: Women Members in the Indian Parliament. Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary, Oxford University Press (2019). © Shirin M. Rai and Carole Spary. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780199489053.003.0011

Conclusion 331

provoking the question as to whether the civic community is exclusively an elite aspiration’ (2013: 277). Arguably, the Indian Parliament today is less socially elite, more regionally diverse and vernacular; it is also enmeshed in a politics of narrow nationalism that seems to undermine the universal liberal values that were enshrined in the constitution. So, as we asked in the Introduction, should we care about this institution? And should we care about how women MPs fare in parliamentary politics? In order to answer these questions we have journeyed through the parliamentary landscape, historically, situating the institution in the unfolding of gender politics. We did this with the help of the politics and performance framework that allowed us to open up new avenues of research on Parliament and in particular on women in the Indian Parliament (Rai, 2014b). In so doing, we concluded that the institution of Parliament is not static—it is unfolding and developing in different performative modes (Rai, 2017a); it is flawed and at times weak and even corrupt—the vernacularization of its politics is often represented as its decline. Women remain marginalized within its portals. At the same time, however, it is an institution that makes claims for India’s democracy, which is increasingly valuable in a context of the dangers of increasing populism, of executive predominance, and of narrow nationalism even as neoliberal India faces challenges of increasing inequality. It may be pertinent here to remind ourselves of Ambedkar’s words in his last speech in Parliament, where he outlined both the challenges facing the Indian polity and the importance of institutional and constitutional change: The first thing in my judgement we must do is to hold fast to constitutional methods of achieving our social and economic objectives … Bhakti in religion may be a road to the salvation of the soul. But in politics, Bhakti or hero-worship is a sure road to degradation and to eventual dictatorship.1

Of course, the Indian Parliament has at times kowtowed to the executive, but its presence and its performance in many registers also underscores Indian democracy. In this book, we set out to answer some theoretical and empirical questions about gender and representation through examining the role 1

Constituent Assembly Debates, 25th November 1949, available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/cadebatefiles/C25111949.html, last accessed on 7 May 2018.

332

Performing Representation

of women in Indian Parliament. In order to do so, we reviewed and analysed the history of women in Parliament (Chapter 1); the routes— sociological as well as electoral—they take to get there (Chapters 2 and 3); and what is the social profile of this small set of women that do enter Parliament (Chapter 4). We also analysed what women MPs do once they get to Parliament—we examined their performances in parliamentary debates (Chapter 5), in the committee system (Chapter 6), and as development agents for their constituencies (Chapter 7). Finally, we addressed questions of women’s leadership (Chapter 8) and of sustainable parliamentary participation (Chapter 9). In this conclusion we bring together our findings and suggest that our theoretical framework of politics and performance and our analysis of both qualitative and quantitative research helped us to answer the questions raised in the Introduction: about representation and representativeness, about gender and power, and about the role of women in Parliament and of Parliament’s claim-making. One of our ambitions for this book was to develop a multi-method approach and a politics and performance framework for our analysis. Most of the work that we have read on gender and representation does either one or the other; we were convinced that bringing together quantitative and qualitative work would allow us to better analyse our research materials. To do so, for example, we have evaluated the performance of women MPs in Parliament by analysing numerical data and by generating our own quantitative data—social profiles of women in terms of class and education, how women MPs have voted, the hours that they have spent participating in debates and how much they have garnered in votes. However, we have done this in tandem with analysing their life stories, reflecting on how they present themselves to us, their constituents, and to their peers, media representations of women MPs, press photographs that highlight and comment on their dress and deportment, and by listening to their speeches in Parliament, by reading through parliamentary debates and watching Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha TV. This multi-method approach was challenging as well as rewarding as a mode of analysis but the politics and performance framework that we have used (and explained in the Introduction) helped us understand how claims of representation—individual as well as institutional—may be evaluated and understood. Take, for example, the place of caste in analysing the profile and work of women members. As we have outlined in Chapter 4, the social profile of women MPs is varied and Dalit women form a very small minority of this group. The quantitative data

Conclusion 333

also tells us that the levels of education of Dalit women in Parliament are higher on average than non-Dalit women. We also interviewed a number of Dalit women and spoken to them about their lives, ambitions, and work in Parliament and in their constituencies. Most of our Dalit interviewees, although not hiding their caste identity in any way, did not really wish to talk to us about ‘Dalit issues’—either personally (whether they are discriminated against in Parliament or not, for example) or at the level of their work (do they take up specifically Dalit issues). This aligns well with many upper-caste women too—those who did not wish to be seen as ‘women MPs’ but just as members working in Parliament. In this case we faced a conundrum; we needed to respect their wishes, read the silences and also the quantitative data that allowed us to reflect upon their representation of self and claims of representation in the context of their marginal status. We needed both quantitative and narrative and performative data to understand the gendered politics of caste in Parliament. Here we turn to another claim that we made for the book in our Introduction—that our analysis is historically and socially embedded; Parliament is an evolving institution whose materiality and symbolic place in the Indian polity can be understood only through its emergence as the national representative body in postcolonial India. Of course, the Westminster model of governance is a colonial legacy: the place and space of the actual building, the architecture and its political palimpsest, its elite membership can be traced to British rule in India and the nationalist struggles against it. The aesthetics of Parliament also reveal new strains within the institution—through examining the portraiture in Parliament, we can reflect upon not only the gendered exclusions operative within it, but also the shifts in party politics and the discourse of nationalism in neoliberal India. We wanted to bring Parliament to life—not only through its rules and regulations but also through its aesthetics; not only by focusing on its membership but also the performances that go on within its portals. While claiming to be representative of the social world outside, the Indian Parliament, like all other such institutions, is also a place of work—viewing it as such allows us to see how gender not only operates in the chambers but is also ever present in the rituals performed every day and in the ceremonies that take place to emphasize important moments in its calendar. So, we argue, that Parliament is gendered both in its rules and norms, its membership and workings but also in its materiality and performance. Such an approach, arguably, has a wider reach; take, for example, the debates on the politics

334

Performing Representation

of colonialism and its manifestations in the campaigns to take down imperial statues in South Africa, the UK, and the US. The mobilizations against commemorative symbols matter and there are different ways of approaching this—Nehru’s refusal to bring down the George V statue from the Rajpath, the eventual setting up of Coronation Park on the site of the Delhi Durbar where colonial statues were placed and curated— could be, as Steve Coll of the New Yorker writes, a useful example of how to debate history without erasing it (2017; see also, American Historical Association, 20172). While Coll argues that ‘statues are not ideas or arguments; they are relics. They stand still, while the struggle for rights and democratic pluralism is dynamic’, we have argued the opposite—that statues are not just relics; they are dynamic in that they generate a politics of memorialization and of forgetting, which is critical to reshaping the institution and reflecting new directions in the political life of the nation (see Chapter 1). So, a historical and socially embedded approach to Parliament allows us to review both its performance in the sense of its workings and also its performance in terms of its materiality. By locating the institution in its history we also sought to answer the question about its representativeness. What narratives of equality and citizenship framed the issue of electoral representativeness? This allows us to reflect upon why women members in the Constituent Assembly rejected special measures such as electoral reservations for women and how this has changed over a period of time. There has been so much excellent theoretical work published on debates on gender and representation that we find it difficult to make an intervention that is entirely novel. Our starting point was, and continues to be, that the problem is not one of representing women but that of structural inequality whereby women are rendered marginal in political institutions at all levels. Our study suggests that the form that this exclusion takes is both formal and informal: It starts within the home with expectations of appropriate behaviour, access to public spaces, and disciplining of women through enforcing patriarchal gender norms. It then continues to restrict women’s access to politics through the threat or infliction of violence against women in public spaces—violence which is both physical and discursive; it is here that the role of family becomes important in ways 2 Statement on Confederate Monuments, available at https://www.historians.org/news-and-advocacy/statements-and-resolutions-of-support-and-protest/aha-statement-on-confederate-monuments, last accessed on 16 May 2018.

Conclusion 335

that are not often analysed—promoting women’s careers, providing everyday support to enable women to pursue their careers in politics, and ensuring some protection against media trolling and violence (see Chapter 2; also Rai, 2012; Amrita Basu, 2016). Structural violence then generates particular modes of political performance which are visible not just outside Parliament but inside too. We notice how women are overlooked when allocating winnable seats for elections (Chapter 3), in debates (Chapter 5), and in the membership of important parliamentary committees (Chapter 6). Political parties play an important role in putting up barriers to women’s participation in parliamentary politics by reproducing gendered discourses of women’s ability to win elections, of their ability to balance family life with parliamentary work, and with their ability to perform in (masculinized) registers that allows them to be effective. Some political parties have also mobilized effectively to stymie the passing of the WRB in Parliament, preventing a 33 per cent quota for women. We suggest then that political parties are one of the most important actors in addressing women’s representation in political institutions and that they are failing women. And yet these organizations are difficult to research—evidenced by the limited literature in this field. We found it difficult to research political parties in two different ways: First, women MPs from cadre-based parties, both right and left wing, tended to toe the party line on important political issues. Second, while most political parties have ‘women’s’ associations’ affiliated to them, these are organizationally rather weak and poorly represented on the party websites; they are also not, as some of our interviewees told us, consulted on important party policy and strategy issues. Our assessment is that even though some of these women’s associations are politically active—AIDWA on the left and Mahila Morcha on the right wing, for example—and indeed serve as routes to Parliament for some women, they rarely challenge the party line on important issues. We also reflect upon the complex relationship between women’s autonomous organizations and women MPs—the left women MPs have stronger links with the autonomous women’s groups than do centre- and right-wing women MPs. So, we would suggest that far more research needs to be done on the gender politics of political parties and on the everyday performance of membership which affects the whole spectrum of women MPs lives—from re/nomination (Chapters 3 and 9) to working in Parliament (Chapters 5, 6, 7, and 8), and to their retiring from Parliament (Chapter 9). Our research showed that despite the rigours of political life most women we interviewed enjoyed being MPs; they wanted to continue

336

Performing Representation

to serve their constituencies and to participate in policy debates in Parliament. The social and political importance that they secured through their position as MPs and the influence that they garnered in their constituencies no doubt underpins this commitment to continue working in political life. There is also for some a genuine interest in promoting the interests of their constituency, their caste, or linguistic group. However, our research also showed that while women MPs across the party spectrum relished their work, this was framed very differently by women on the right- and left wings of party politics (see Chapter 8). This led us to emphasize the political ideologies that affect party articulations of gender equality—not all parties use the same discursive tropes to address women’s representation in Parliament and, depending upon their political party and their own ideological framework, women MPs understand, represent, and perform their politics differently. Feminist literature on gender and politics has often focused on the struggles of women to be elected to Parliament and what might be done to ensure their greater participation in political life. This focus has also meant that while rejecting essentialist arguments such as women do politics differently, many scholars have nevertheless continued to place the burden of performance (in terms of representing women’s interest or non-corrupt politics) on women MPs. Often there is an expectation that if women MPs benefit from the mobilization of women then it is incumbent upon women MPs to perform better than a run of the mill male MP; and that women’s values differ from men politicians. For example, Lovenduski and Norris have argued that women politicians in all the major British parties (not just Labour) do bring a different set of values to issues affecting women’s equality in the workplace, home, and public sphere (2003: 100). Our analysis challenges this view on two counts—first, we need to take into account different ideological positions of women MPs; not all women MPs are feminists, even though many support women’s equality discourse, especially in the context of political and electoral mobilization and increasingly in terms of women’s representation in legislative bodies such as Parliament. Second, we demonstrate that institutional constraints do not always allow women MPs to pursue a woman-friendly politics; Parliament itself is a gendered institution that needs reform in order for women to be able to participate fully and equally in its functioning. This focus on ideologies also means that while the possibilities of collaboration across party lines on specific issues related to women are a possibility, it is not easy (Chapter 9) given the hard boundaries of party politics in Parliament. So, while increased representation of women in

Conclusion 337

Parliament matters a great deal, their work within Parliament is highly dependent upon their parties, ideologies, and commitment to feminist politics. So, what have been our main findings on the presence and the work of women MPs in the Indian Parliament? First, the fact that Parliament is a gendered institution is visible in many forms, including the ways in which women MPs work within its portals. Through our examination of the participation of women MPs in debates (Chapter 5), the committee system (Chapter 6), and redistributive role (Chapter 7), we found that there continues to be the gendered marginalization of women in participation in the work of Parliament. Comparing debates that are overtly about women and those that are not, we found that women’s participation in the former set of debates is visibly higher than in the second. Not only this, the form that such marginalization takes is also gendered—the discursive undermining and open hostility of male MPs to women’s interventions in debates is a cause for concern. Similarly, the work of women MPs in the committee system also remains deeply gendered, with male MPs occupying most positions of chairs of the important standing committees while women MPs are marginalized in the membership of these. The one committee, which we discuss in detail, that is an exception to this trend is the CEW (Chapter 6). As committees are a political stage where party politics can be pushed back in discussions of specific policies, these could be harnessed by women as a group, making a serious impact on the working of Parliament. This does not, however, seem to be the case. While this committee is symbolically representative of Parliament taking women’s issues seriously as a result of campaigns by women’s groups, we found that it is also sidelined in the Parliament’s committee system. As a result, we find that not only is the committee marginal to the work of Parliament, it also does not register as important among women’s groups campaigning on women’s issues in the country. Finally, the committee is also not well placed to scrutinize parliamentary bills or the work of the NCW—the autonomous body set up to scrutinize government policy and support gender equality. This disconnect between women’s groups, the NCW, and the CEW underscores its political as well as institutional marginality. Second, we found that the sustainability of women in, rather than just their entry into, parliamentary politics is highly complex. While challenges to women’s access to and work in Parliament was our main concern, we also researched how once women enter political life they are able or not to sustain their political careers over a period of time

338

Performing Representation

(Chapter 9). Our longitudinal approach allowed us to do this—stories of women’s political lives over time revealed successes and failures, institutional and familial constraints of meeting the work–life balance, and the lack of training and institutional support. Party and family are the two institutions that remain critical to support not only women’s access to politics (Chapter 2) but also in sustaining their political careers (Chapter 9). While this is no doubt the case in many cultures and countries, by listening closely to the women MPs who we interviewed, we became aware of the multiple ways in which families are important to women politicians; this in turn allowed us to move away from the standard narratives of family dynasties as a route to politics for women that are prevalent in the study of gender and politics in India (Derichs and Thompson, 2013 and Chandra, 2016).3 Further, in terms of sustainability of political careers, our research also revealed the importance of the varying performative labour that women have to engage in (Chapter 3). For example, elections are highly labour intensive and demand high levels of inputs from women in the performance of their electoral roles. Candidates have to travel vast distances, under difficult infrastructural conditions, they have to depend on their party’s and their family’s support while campaigning so that they can bridge their work and care roles, and they have to negotiate the public terrain in their constituencies by giving appropriate symbolic signals—presenting themselves as ‘the daughters (in-law)/elder sisters/mothers’ of the constituents, dressing the part, and learning new ways of speaking (sometimes learning new languages). This labour is learned, it does not just appear. Here the class, caste, education, and family connections coalesce into privilege in the way Bourdieu describes: ‘habitus’ is a critical but complex and layered underpinning of women’s access to politics (Bourdieu, 1990; Chapter 4). One strategy of sustaining parliamentary presence, we argue, could be collaboration across party lines. In our interviews we heard stories of how women seek to collaborate over gender issues and the challenges faced in doing so. While Barnes in her study of Argentina is optimistic that collaboration will become institutionalized over time (2016), we are less sanguine about this. Unless women assume and perform leadership roles in many political parties, especially in first past-the-post systems, and open up to 3 For more popular commentary on this issue, see http://www.economist. com/node/18926213 on dynastic politics and women politicians worldwide, and http://nymag.com/daily/intelligencer/2015/01/dynastic-candidates-of-2016. html about the USA specifically.

Conclusion 339

cross-party work more generally, we fear that collaboration will not be institutionalized or sustained over time, even though women MPs come together on some very specific issues. Third, subjectivation is not only an important theme when we reflect upon the routes women took to Parliament, it is also important to analyse how they see themselves as subjects of/in politics. Andrews has described political narratives as ‘stories people tell about how the world works, how they explain the engines of political change, and the role they see themselves, and those whom they regard as being part of their group’ (2007: 8). During our research we found that the women MPs we interviewed represented themselves and their work in modest ways—not as leaders but as ‘sevaks’/servants of the people they represent (Chapter 8). Of course, at one level this articulation of the work of an MP is not new, neither culturally specific. What we found was that if we read leadership narratives through a gendered lens, we can see it as not an individual attribute but a gendered social construction. The discussion about critical actors also becomes relevant in this context—our study shows that critical actors cannot ‘on their own’ perform leadership roles; they are always institutionally and socially constrained and aware of these constraints. The performance of leadership roles then becomes a complex story of negotiation—role playing, modesty and domesticity on the one hand and efficiency, effectiveness, and courage on the other. We found that the women in the Indian Parliament whom we interviewed to be largely confident, educated and articulate—they were able to reflect upon not only their own career paths but also upon the institution within which they work and the constraints that they face in their work. In their narratives they employed humour, they showed us that they were passionate and engaged, and they tried to generate a role for themselves as ‘good MPs’. All the while, we heard these narratives through filters of their and their party’s political ideology, the social norms to which we saw them subscribe, and through media reportage about them—individual as well as a group within Parliament. This study of leadership has implications for how we read women’s narratives, their life stories and their subjectivation and how this reading affects their place in politics—as role models and as inspiring other women to join political life. Finally, through our discussion of money and politics we were able to reflect upon the issue of the gendered patterns of corruption and of redistributive spending of constituency funds through a discussion of MPLADS (Chapter 7). Women, contrary to received wisdom, are

340

Performing Representation

not particularly less corrupt or more sensitive to the needs of their constituents. We also found that many women MPs seem to find it difficult to negotiate the terrain of gender politics when it comes to mediating competing interests—often based on caste categories—in their constituencies and feel burdened by this role. This is evidenced by the fact that only 1 out of top 10 MPLADS spenders is a woman. However, we also found that the gendered nature of politics punishes women MPs more than it does male MPs—reputational damage related to money is greater for women than male MPs. The role of the media and the effectiveness of women MPs are then linked in complex ways. If these were our key findings on women MPs in the Indian Parliament, what generalizable conclusions do we reach? What tentative, speculative, and strategic suppositions can we put forward for consideration to a community of scholars dealing with gender and politics? First, we need to be wary of the ‘decline of parliament’ thesis. By filtering our analysis through our politics and performance framework, we sought to understand how we can better hold Parliament to account by going beyond how often an MP turns up or participates in debates or how many hours the Parliament is unable to function because of disruption. The MPs participate in parliamentary work in a range of ways, many of which are behind the scenes; for example, when they are visiting a minister about a problem in their constituency, which is not shown in the metrics but a special mention in Parliament is. We argue that the ‘decline of parliament’ thesis holds less well if we analyse the performance of representation. Disruptive parliamentary performances by MPs ‘highlight how representatives resist and negotiate institutional pressures to conform to formal and informal rules and norms of deliberation, if they see non-conformism as necessary to fulfil duties of representation. The construction of such claims, how they are performed, and whether they are effective or not [need to] become the subject of analysis’ (Spary, 2013: 402). Our analysis of the parliamentary chambers as the stage of performance suggests that parliamentary disruptions and women MPs’ participation in these need not be read simply as a decline of standards—of both members and the institution of Parliament; rather it can allow us to uncover the political work that these gendered disruptions do. As Spary has argued elsewhere, we need to understand ‘why elected representatives may bend or break with official legislative rules and norms to register protest, as well as who is targeted as the primary audience of protest, and how protest is received and potentially justified and/or rendered illegitimate’ (Spary, 2013: 393). This allows us to bring

Conclusion 341

together the institution of Parliament—its rules and norms as well as the gendered aesthetics of protest—with the bodies that perform within its boundaries and with the wider audience that receives the images of such protests. The narrative about parliamentary decline, we argue, is complex and somewhat flawed; as new bodies marked by gender and caste appear on stage, new forms of performances of politics take shape. Taking the example of MPs’ behaviour in the chambers, we have argued that disruptive legislative protest can be viewed not simply as inappropriate and inefficient, bringing into disrepute the reputations of legislative bodies, but it can also be read as a performance register through which we can productively map the changing cultural and historical development of representative politics. The criticism of parliamentary working is important but we argue that if Parliament is analysed through the lens of performance, this criticism need not undermine the position of Parliament as a necessary institution for Indian democracy—especially in the context of the rise of a strong and strengthening executive and a populist leadership. This is, then, not the time to disengage with parliamentary politics through cynicism and disapprobation; it is the time to critically support this institution so that it can improve and remain a sustainable representative institution necessary to the performance of democratic politics. Second, we found that access to Parliament remains highly gendered, both socially and institutionally. Women are discouraged to participate in politics, have to take long gendered detours and continue to remain dependent upon their families to be able to do so. What our interviews revealed, however, was also that most women MPs are aware of this institutional and political bias against them. They are convinced that for Parliament to be a space of equality for women, more women need to work there, and that this can only happen through the introduction of quotas. The WRB remains a contentious issue—but largely for male party leaders. For women MPs it is a clear route for their greater presence in Parliament and they are frustrated (sometimes with their own parties) with the snail-like progress of passing this bill (Chapter 2). This chimes well with the assessment of the impact quotas have on women’s presence in legislatures worldwide (Dahlerup, 2005) and in South Asia in particular (Rai et al., 2006). The fact that this strategy for gender equality in legislatures is not easy to pursue in many contexts is clear from the debates on quotas in the UK as well as in India. Issues of merit, fairness, as well as intersectionality have been raised in both contexts; in India, in particular, the issue of women from OBCs being disadvantaged in any

342

Performing Representation

quota regime is particularly potent; much of the public debate has also been bad tempered and sometimes visceral (see Rai and Sharma, 2000; Khobragade, 2004). Although most political parties are officially in favour of the passing of the WRB, it has still to be passed. Sonia Gandhi wrote to Prime Minister Modi on 21 September 2017: ‘I am writing to request you to take advantage of your majority in the Lok Sabha to now get the women’s reservation bill passed in the Lower House as well’ and assured her party’s support towards this.4 The political capital that needs to be invested by the party in government to pass this bill has not yet been made available. So, like many other countries, the underrepresentation of women in the national legislature continues to be a feature of Indian politics. The struggle for the introduction of quotas in the Indian Parliament goes on. Third, in the context of critical mass versus critical actors debate, we found that while critical actors are important where the issue of induction of women candidates is concerned—see, for example, the role Sonia Gandhi played in introducing the WRB in the Rajya Sabha—critical mass (or rather the lack of ) is also important in terms of women MPs’ work and their sustainability in Parliament. The small number of women in Parliament means that they cannot effectively participate in debates, for example, without being interrupted, or overlooked, or discursively framed in gendered ways. While seniority and dynastic prominence might mitigate this effect of (small) numbers, it does not challenge it enough; the exception remains just that. Critical mass, we discovered, is also important for understanding the subjectivation of women MPs. As we have discussed earlier and in Chapter 8, the small number of women in Parliament, and indeed in politics more generally, means that women MPs do not see themselves and definitely do not represent themselves as political leaders. Most of the MPs we interviewed saw themselves as party members led by the party leader; depending upon their political ideology, they spoke of themselves as ‘sevaks’ (servants) wanting to engage not in politics but in social service. The gendered terrain which they have to negotiate to enter Parliament might explain this aversion to asserting their position as leader of their constituency; we think that more women in politics and Parliament would shift this subjectivation as followers rather than leaders. A lack of critical mass also 4

See http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/sonia-gandhi-writes-to-pmmodi-on-getting-womens-reservation-bill-passed/articleshow/60778535.cms, last accessed on 8 May 2018.

Conclusion 343

means institutional marginalization—there are just not enough women as a viable pool for selection for chairs and membership of committees, for example. Together with the subjectivation issue, this means that they also do not feel able to push for parity. Finally, the small number of women in Parliament undermines their position in their party in Parliament—party leaders do not put their names forward to speak in debates, for example (Chapter 5), and re-nomination of women MPs for election also suffers. Fourth, by combining performance and feminist and political economy approaches we have reflected upon not only the symbolic nature of Parliament, but have also analysed the institution as a work site (Chapter 9). This allowed us to explore both legal and behavioural obligations of the institutional actors as well as elected members to make parliaments gender sensitive, which in turn can contribute to a sustainable participation in its work by all MPs. While legal approaches to the workplace can provide a punitive framework for gender-abusive behaviour, informal and behavioural reform can ensure that Parliament becomes a gender-sensitive work site. Take for example, the introduction of Workplace Equality Networks (WENs) in the UK Parliament ‘to provide an opportunity for groups of people to discuss and consider issues relevant to their situation or of interest to them … WENs can be useful forums for groups protected by equality legislation’. A WEN on gender, for example, focuses on ‘improved wellbeing services for MPs’ staff, to running a Women into Leadership mentoring project, to promoting flexible working for men, to providing new support for women MPs’.5 Such informal networks could also contribute to addressing other workbased interests such as dis/ability or caste-based exclusions in the workplace. Such initiatives do not yet exist in the Indian Parliament as can be seen in our analysis of the BPST in Chapter 9. Treating Parliament as a workplace can lead to challenging and reforming existing ceremony and rituals associated with the everyday workings of the institution—in the gendered aesthetics of Parliament (portraiture, for example, or dress), in debates (less aggressive more deliberative), and in rules and norms governing memberships of committees and positions of leadership in Parliament. While this approach can be challenged as introducing corporate norms of formal gender equality and its performance without shifting gendered norms operative in the institution (Halley et al., 2006; 5

https://www.parliament.uk/about/working/workplace-equality-networks/ parliagender/, last accessed on 1 June 2018.

344

Performing Representation

Case, 2017), we feel that the unchallenged masculinized and upper-caste nature of parliamentary working is highly problematic and does not allow a sustainable parliamentary career for marginalized groups. The insistence by women for a respectful and safe workspace is part of the struggles for women’s rights (Chapter 9). Fifth, our study treats Parliament as an institution where electoral representative democracy is performed and which, therefore, has great symbolic significance as a receptacle of certain public values that are cherished and which need defending (Kymlicka, 1995a). We recognize that representative democracy offers a limited understanding of democracy. Democracy is a more expansive idea—often seen as a normative concept underlined by both equality and participation. It is also a more fragile concept than representation; this has resulted in theorists such as Schumpeter arguing that representative/electoral democracy is desirable while one that focuses on issues of equality might actually be dangerous (1976). Feminist theorists of democracy have, on the other hand, focused on equality between ‘who’ participates—men or women; inclusion is then at the heart of this understanding of democracy, which includes ‘modes of communication, attending to social difference, representation, civic organizing, and the borders of political jurisdictions’ (Young, 2002: 6). We do not wish to engage in this debate about democratic justifications here. While parliaments are often presented as undifferentiated institutions, as we have seen in this book, they are historically marked with deep divisions of class, caste/race, gender, (dis)ability, and sexuality. These inequalities are inscribed not only in numbers—how many women/Dalits/Muslims; not just in rules—who speaks, when, and how—but also in the performance of parliamentary ceremonies and rituals, in the space it occupies, and in the relationship parliaments forge with the citizens of the country. As Parkinson notes, ‘While a performative account of democracy comes with some normative dangers … it draws attention to three features: the distinction between democratic actors and the roles that they play; the idea that certain democratic acts require particular kinds of staging; and the degree to which democratic performance is scripted’ (2015: 19). What we emphasize in our work is that representative democracy, encapsulated in the working of Parliament is symbolically important for a democracy like India—it is ‘a place of work, a site for celebration, a democratic space’ (Parkinson, 2012: 142): its presence makes a claim for equality—anyone over a certain age can stand for elections, for example, and represent competing interests; its constitutional position makes it the author and auditor of

Conclusion 345

laws; and its physical space remains a theatre where challenges to the executive are made in the chambers, and which provides a focus for mobilization of democratic protests in its vicinity. Therefore, we believe that it still makes sense to analyse parliamentary performances as well as and alongside the attention we pay to the aesthetics of protest outside of the institution (Rai and Reinelt, 2015). Finally, if we view parliaments as diverse and conflictual spaces of work, women MPs also cannot and must not be treated as a homogenous group in parliament even as their descriptive status (as women) places them collectively at the margins of the institution. As Cecilia Romero, a Mexican Senator, put it: ‘As women, we are not a group. Women are not a collective’ (in Htun, 2016: 68). We provide sufficient evidence for this position in the study of women in Parliament. While a feminist politics would insist on women’s equality in all political parties such that nomination and re-nomination of candidates achieves gender parity (through quotas, for instance), it would also hope for a feminist politics that encourages a progressive politics, which will emplace women and men in a political and economic context of equality and redistribution of resources that enable them to lead fulfilled lives. Without this, feminism and feminist politics may attract the criticism of becoming the ‘handmaiden of capital’ (Fraser, 2013). Here again, a focus on performance allows us to study accountability and progressive politics; as Rai and Reinelt have argued, ‘Part of the energy in the new scholarship on politics and performance comes from the desire to radicalise and refresh … the art of politics’ (2015: 9). Looking forward, we expect to see limited progress for women in the Indian Parliament. We expect the WRB to be passed at some point in the next few years; most national parties are supportive and as we have shown there is some movement to support it among smaller regional parties also. This would mean a significant change in the membership of Parliament—the bodies (of women) out of place will no longer be so. While still away from parity, a critical mass of women will occupy the portals of Parliament, which we expect will begin to shift the masculinized ethos of the working of the institution. As a workplace Parliament might become more conducive for women. However, the WRB can only succeed in translating descriptive representation into substantive representation when the status of women outside Parliament improves radically; the discrepancy that we pointed out in the Introduction—between electoral and social politics—will undermine the role that WRB can play in shifting gendered modes of representation. Struggles for improving

346

Performing Representation

the lives of women—of all classes, castes, and religions—is an essential part of the story of representation; women representatives in Parliament can contribute to these shifts but also need to be held accountable by a vibrant autonomous women’s movement. This dialectic of solidarity and accountability has not yet played out successfully in Indian politics. We also expect to see a generational change in the membership of Parliament as the older generation of MPs give way to younger ones: from the passing of the generation of politicians that remembered and participated in the freedom movement against the British, and then the generation of politicians who experienced and fought against Indira Gandhi’s Emergency in the 1970s. Will this mean that Parliament will reflect a different ethos? We are not sure; on the one hand generational change can mean a less hierarchical institution that reflects the changing mores of everyday lives of its members, but on the other, unless the party system becomes less hierarchical and dynastic, the generational shift will remain limited. While there are many young party activists who could make significant contribution to India’s Parliament and political life, the obstacles in their path—of class, caste, and gender—remain significant, and for women in particular the threat of physical and discursive violence remains significant. We also presume to see the continuing and growing importance of regional parties in the Indian Parliament. Here we wonder whether the WRB might become a bridge between the state assemblies and Parliament in a way that reservations in panchayats have not yet been able to do. Already, as we have shown, there is noticeable traffic between state and national politics and state assemblies and Parliament. This may increase and allow women active in Parliament to become more prominent in state politics and vice versa, which may then lead to different alliances across institutional boundaries as well as generate and distribute new and transferable political skills. Greater attention to women’s participation in state-level assemblies can also help us better understand the democratic quality of India’s political institutions. Overall, the future of women in Parliament, we conclude, will strengthen but the direction that the politics of the country takes as this happens is not so clear. Without the alignment of progressive politics with gender politics, the contribution that women make to the shifts in parliamentary and electoral politics will remain limited. Indeed the problem facing women MPs will be that unless they are able to work together to generate a different kind of politics—which is unlikely given the nature of party politics—they will be marked by a politics of recognition rather than seen to support a

Conclusion 347

politics of redistribution of economic and social power. This means that while an increased number of women in Parliament may change the gendered nature of the institution somewhat, it is unlikely to make a dent in distributive struggles. In this book our plea has been to see parliamentary politics for what it is—a limited but critically important gendered performance of politics, where women MPs play their roles through participating in its deliberations, law-making, ceremonies, and rituals; in so doing they reproduce dominant forms of gendered power relations while at the same time challenge them. While this complex picture doesn’t lead us to a utopian framing of women MPs, either as only challenging dominant politics or simply as docile actors in a gendered institution, it does reaffirm our analysis that we need more women (critical mass) and more feminist women in Parliament (collective critical actors of a different kind). This will not be easy to accomplish—parity in Parliament is nowhere in sight; feminist concerns are even less so. Much more research needs to be done on how the bridges between autonomous women’s movements, political parties, and their women’s wings and women MPs might be strengthened to enable a progressive gendered agenda to be pursued in and outside Parliament. We hope that this book contributes to this endeavour in a small measure.

Bibliography

Agarwal, B. 1997. ‘“Bargaining” and Gender Relations: Within and beyond the Household’. Feminist Economics, 3 (1): 1–51. Agnes, Flavia. 1995. ‘Redefining the Agenda of the Women’s Movement within a Secular Framework’. South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies 17 (1): 63–78. Agnihotri, I. and V. Mazumdar. 1995. ‘Changing Terms of Political Discourse: Women’s Movement in India, 1970s–1990s’. Economic and Political Weekly, 30 (29): 1869–78. Ali, S. 2007. ‘Whither Equality’. Seminar. Available at http://www.india-seminar.com/2007/571/571_subhashini_ali.htm, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Allbrook, M. 2014. Henry Prinsep’s Empire: Framing a Distant Colony. Canberra: ANU Press. Alva, Margaret. 2016. Courage and Commitment: An Autobiography. New Delhi: Rupa. Alvesson, M. and A. Spicer. 2012. ‘Critical Leadership Studies: The Case for Critical Performativity’. Human Relations 65 (3): 367–90. Ananya, I. 2017. ‘Maneka Gandhi Said Ask Me Anything. Indian Men Asked and Asked. And Asked’. The Ladies Finger, 3 July. Available at http://theladiesfinger.com/maneka-gandhi-ask-questions/, last accessed on 2 May 2018. Anderson, S. 2015. ‘India’s Gender Digital Divide: Women and Politics on Twitter’. Observation Research Foundation, 108. Available at http://www. orfonline.org/research/indias-gender-digital-dividewomen-and-politics-ontwitter/, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Andrews, M., Corinne Squire, and Maria Tamboukou (eds). 2008. Doing Narrative Research. London: Sage Publications Ltd. Andrews, Molly. 2007. Shaping History: Narratives of Political Change. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Aristotle. 2000 [350 BC]. Politics. Infomotions, Inc. Armitage, F., R. E. Johnson, and C. Spary. 2014. ‘The Emergence and Impact of First Female Speakers in the UK, South Africa and India’. In Democracy in

Bibliography 349

Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament edited by Shirin M. Rai and R. E. Johnson. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Arya, D. 2013. ‘Why Are Indian Women Being Attacked on Social Media?’ BBC, 8 May. Available at http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-india-22378366, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Arya, S. 2009. ‘The National Commission for Women: Assessing Performance’. Centre for Women’s Development Studies (Occasional Paper). Available at http://www.cwds.ac.in/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/TheNational CommissionMonograph.pdf, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Austin, Granville. 1999. The Indian Constitution. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Ayyangar, S. and S. Jacob. 2014. ‘Studying the Indian Legislature: What Does Question Hour Reveal?’ Studies in Indian Politics 2 (1): 1–19. Baker, H. 1944. Architecture and Personalities. London: Country Life. Balasubramaniam, B. 2013. ‘The Dramaturgy of Ritual Performances in Indian Parliamentary Debates’. PhD Thesis, University of Warwick. Available at http://wrap.warwick.ac.uk/54359/, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Baldez, L. 2004. ‘Elected Bodies: The Gender Quota Law for Legislative Candidates in Mexico’. Legislative Studies Quarterly 29 (2): 231–58. Ballington, J. 2008. ‘Equality in Politics: A Survey of Women and Men in Parliaments’. Reports and Documents 54. Geneva: Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU). Bamzai, Kaveree. 2014. ‘Common Denominator’, India Today, 22 March. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/gul-panag-kirron-khersikander/1/350647.html, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Banerjee, Mamata. 2012. My Unforgettable Memories. New Delhi: Roli Books. Banerjee, Mukulika. 2014. Why India Votes. New Delhi: Routledge. Banerjee, S. 2007. ‘Chaste Like Sita, Fierce Like Durga’. In India’s 2004 Elections: Grassroots and National Perspectives edited by R. Roy and P. Wallace. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Bansal, S. 2015. ‘How MPs Spend Their Funds: There’s Good and Bad News’. The Hindu, 5 June. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/data/ how-do-mps-spend-their-funds/article7285685.ece, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Barnes, T. D. 2016. Gendering Legislative Behavior. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Basu, Amrita. 1992. Two Faces of Protest: Contrasting Modes of Women’s Activism in India. New Delhi: University of California Press. ———. 2005, ‘Women, Political Parties and Social Movements in South Asia’. Occasional paper No. 5, United Nations Research Institute for Social Development. ———. 2008. ‘Women, Political Parties and Social Movements in South Asia’. In Governing Women edited by A. M. Goetz. London: Routledge.

350

Bibliography

Basu, Amrita. 2016. ‘Women, Dynasties and Democracy in India’, in Democratic Dynasties: State, Party and Family in Contemporary Indian Politics edited by K. Chandra. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Basu, Aparna. n.d. ‘Indian Women’s Movement’. Available at http://discuss.forumias.com/uploads/FileUpload/42/f5791c0463b13bf8812d681cb5245c. pdf, last accessed on 26 October 2017. Basu, Asmita. 2008. ‘Legislating on Domestic Violence’. Seminar. Available at http://www.india-seminar.com/2008/583/583_asmita_basu.htm, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Basu, T. 2008. ‘Vital Stats: Women MPs in the 15th Lok Sabha’. New Delhi: PRS Legislative Research. Available at http://www.prsindia.org/parliamenttrack/vital-stats/women-mps-in-the-15th-lok-sabha-684/, last accessed on 9 May 2018. Batliwala, S. and D. Dhanraj. 2004. ‘Gender Myths That Instrumentalise Women: A View from the Indian Frontline’. IDS Bulletin 35 (4): 11–18. Baviskar, B. S. and George Mathew. 2009. Inclusion and Exclusion in Local Governance: Field Studies from Rural India. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Baxi, P. 2013. ‘The Official Emergency Continues—The Ordinance on Sexual Assault’. Kafila, 3 February. Available at https://kafila.online/2013/02/03/ the-official-emergency-continues-the-ordinance-on-sexual-assault-pratiksha-baxi/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Bayly, C. A. 2012. Recovering Liberties: Indian Thought in the Age of Liberalism and Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. BBC. 2014. ‘Indian Elections: Hope and Anger in the Transgender Community’. BBC News, 23 April. Available at http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asiaindia-27075671, last accessed on 29 May 2018. Be Money Aware Blog. 2014. ‘Pay and Perks of Indian MP, MLA and Prime Minister’. Available at http://www.bemoneyaware.com/blog/pay-and-perksof-indian-mp-mla-and-prime-minister/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Beard, M. 2017. Women and Power: A Manifesto. London: Profile Books. Beckwith, K. 2007. ‘Numbers and Newness: The Descriptive and Substantive Representation of Women’. Canadian Journal of Political Science 40 (1) (March): 27–49. Bedi, Tarini. 2016. The Dashing Ladies of Shiv Sena: Political Matronage in Urbanizing India. Albany: SUNY Press. Berenschot, W. 2011. ‘On the Usefulness of Goondas in Indian Politics: “Moneypower” and “Musclepower” in a Gujarati Locality’. Journal of South Asian Studies 34 (2): 255–75. Bhartia, A. 2012. Vote of Confidence: Profiles of Young Politicians. New Delhi: Lotus Collection, Roli Books. Bhasin S. and A. Celestine. 2008. ‘Vital Stats: Women in Parliament and State Legislatures’. New Delhi: PRS Legislative Research. Available at http://www. prsindia.org/administrator/uploads/general/1241758183~~Women%20

Bibliography 351

in%20Parliament%20and%20State%20Legislature.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Bhattacharyya, H. 2005. ‘Federalism and Regionalism in India: Institutional Strategies and Political Accommodation of Identity’. Working paper no. 27, Heidelberg Papers in South Asian and Comparative Politics. Available at http://www.ub.uni-heidelberg.de/archiv/5500, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Bhusnurmath, Mythili. 2011. ‘Kalavati’s Health Check’. Economic Times, 6 March. Available at http://blogs.economictimes.indiatimes.com/Myth-nReality/kalavati-s-health-check/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Bjarnegård, E. and M. Kenny. 2016. ‘Comparing Candidate Selection: A Feminist Institutional Approach’. Government and Opposition 51 (3): 370–92. Blair, H. 2014. ‘Constituency Needs, Constitutional Propriety and Clientelist Patronage: Constituency Development Funds in India’. In Distributive Politics in Developing Countries: Almost Pork edited by M. Baskin and M. L. Mezey. London: Lexington Books. Bleiker, R. 2017. ‘In Search of Thinking Space: Reflections on the Aesthetic Turn in International Political Theory’. Millennium 45 (2): 258–64. Bleiker, E. and R. Hutchison. 2014. ‘Theorizing Emotions in World Politics’. International Theory 6 (3): 491–514. Blundo, Giorgio and Jean-Pierre Olivier de Sardan. 2006. Everyday Corruption and the State: Citizens and Public Officials in Africa. London: Zed Books. Bohnet, I. 2016. What Works: Gender Equality by Design. London: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Bose, A. 2012. Behenji: A Political Biography of Mayawati. New Delhi: Penguin. Bose, K. 2008. An Outsider in Politics. New Delhi: Penguin Books. Bourdieu, P. 1972. Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 1990. The Logic of Practice. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Brass, Paul R. 1994. The Politics of India since Independence. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 2003. The Production of Hindu–Muslim Violence in Contemporary India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Brown, Judith. 1999. ‘India’. In The Oxford History of the British Empire, volume IV, The Twentieth Century edited by Judith M. Brown, and Wm. Roger Louis. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Brown, R. 2009. Art for a Modern India, 1947–1980. London: Duke University Press. Buch, N. 2006. The Law of Two-Child Norm in Panchayats. In collaboration with M. C. M. Bhopal. New Delhi: Concept Publishing Co. Byron, Robert. 1931. ‘New Delhi, the Individual Buildings’. The Architectural Review 69 (410). Available at https://archive.org/stream/ NewDelhiByRobertByron/New%20Delhi%20by%20Robert%20Byron_ djvu.txt, last accessed on 8 April 2018.

352

Bibliography

Cannadine, David. 2000. The Houses of Parliament: History, Art, Architecture edited by David Cannadine and Jacqueline Riding. London: Merrell. Case, Sue-Ellen. 2017. ‘The Affective Performance of State Love’. In Performance, Feminism and Affect in Neoliberal Times edited by Elin Diamond, Denise Varney, and Candice Amich. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, DOI 10.1057/978-1-137-59810-3_2. Celis, K. and S. Childs. 2008. ‘Introduction: The Descriptive and Substantive Representation of Women: New Directions’. Parliamentary Affairs 61 (3): 419–25. ———. 2012. ‘The Substantive Representation of Women: What to Do with Conservative Claims?’ Political Studies 60 (1): 213–25. Chacko, P. 2011. ‘The Search for a Scientific Temper: Nuclear Technology and the Ambivalence of India’s Postcolonial Modernity’. Review of International Studies 37 (1): 185–208. Chakraborty, S. 2016. ‘State of Affairs’. Star Trek Foody Style blog. Available at https://startreknfoodystyle.wordpress.com/2016/05/20/sex-in-politics/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Chakravarti, U. 2005. ‘How Autonomous Is the Autonomous Women’s Movement’. Samyukta: A Journal of Women’s Studies 5 (2): 40–9. Chalabi, Mona. 2013. ‘MPs’ Pay: Higher than Switzerland, Lower than Norway’. The Guardian, 11 July. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/ politics/datablog/2013/jul/11/mps-pay-uk-foreign-compared#data, last accessed 2 May 2018. Chandra, K. (ed.). 2016. Democratic Dynasties: State, Party and Family in Contemporary Indian Politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Chatterjee, P. 1993. The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Chatterjee, S. 2010. Keeping the Faith: Memoirs of a Parliamentarian. New Delhi: Harper Collins. Chattopadhyaya, K. 1983. Indian Woman’s Battle. Delhi: South Asia Books. ———. 2014 [1986]. Inner Recesses, Outer Spaces: Memoirs. New Delhi: Niyogi Books. Chattopadhyay, R. and E. Duflo. 2004. ‘Women as Policy Makers: Evidence from a Randomized Policy Experiment in India’. Econometrica 72 (5), 1409–43. Chawla, P. 2004. ‘Sonia Gandhi Declines PM Post, Anoints Manmohan Singh to Head Govt’. India Today, 31 May. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday. in/story/sonia-gandhi-declines-pm-post-anoints-manmohan-singh-to-headgovt/1/195950.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Chawla, P. and S. Prasannarajan. 2008. ‘The Making of the Prime Minister’. India Today, 24 July. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/the+ma king+of+the+prime+minister/1/11883.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Childs, Sarah. 2002. ‘Concepts of Representation and the Passage of the Sex Discrimination (Election Candidates) Bill’. Journal of Legislative Studies 8 (3): 90–108.

Bibliography 353

Childs, Sarah. 2004. New Labour’s Women MPs. London: Routledge. Childs, Sarah and Mona Lena Krook. 2007. ‘Critical Mass Theory and Women’s Political Representation’. Political Studies: 2008 56: 725–36. ———. 2008. ‘Critical Mass Theory and Women’s Political Representation’. Political Studies 56 (3): 725–36. ———. 2009. ‘Analysing Women’s Substantive Representation: From Critical Mass to Critical Actors’. Government and Opposition 44 (2): 125–45. Chiriyankandath, James. 1992. ‘“Democracy” under the Raj: Elections and Separate Representation in British India’. The Journal of Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 30 (1): 39–63. Chishti, Seema. 2009. ‘Set in Stone’. The Indian Express, 29 August. Available at http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/set-in-stone/508497/0, last accessed on 13 April 2018. Chopra, D. 2011. ‘Interactions of “Power” in the Making and Shaping of Social Policy’. Contemporary South Asia 19 (2): 153–71. Chopra, J. K. 1993. Women in the Indian Parliament. New Delhi: Mittal Publications. Choudhary, S. 2010. Braking News. Gurgaon: Hachette India. Ciotti, Manuela. 2012. ‘Resurrecting Seva (Social Service): Dalit and LowCaste Women Party Activists as Producers and Consumers of Political Culture and Practice in Urban North India’. Journal of Asian Studies 71 (1): 149–70. ———. 2017a. ‘“I Will See the World”: The Production of Political Subjectivities among Local Dalit Women Leaders in Lucknow’. In Unsettling the Archetypes: Femininities and Masculinities in Indian Politics edited by M. Ciotti. New Delhi: Women Unlimited. ——— (ed.). 2017b. Unsettling the Archetypes: Femininities and Masculinities in Indian Politics. New Delhi: Women Unlimited. Central Legislative Assembly (CLA). 1926. Resolution Re Election of Women to the Legislative Assembly. Central Legislative Assembly Debates, 1 September 1926, pp. 632–44. Cohen, B. 2012. ‘Representing Authority in Victorian India’. In The Invention of Tradition edited by E. Hobsbawm and R. Terence. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cohn, C. and R. Jacobsen. 2013. ‘Women and Political Activism in the Face of War and Militarization’. In Women and Wars: Contested Histories, Uncertain Futures edited by C. Cohn. Cambridge: Polity Press. Coll, S. 2017. ‘Things to Think about When Taking Down Statues’. The New Yorker, 31 August. Available at https://www.newyorker.com/news/dailycomment/things-to-think-about-when-taking-down-statues, last accessed on 28 October 2017. Committee on Empowerment of Women (CEW). 2001. Third Report on Women in Detention (Lok Sabha). New Delhi.

354

Bibliography

Committee on Empowerment of Women (CEW). 2003a. Eleventh Report on Women in Detention: Action Taken on Third Report of the Committee on Empowerment of Women (13th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. ———. 2003b. Seventeenth Report on Violence Against Women during Riots: Action Taken on Ninth Report of Committee on Empowerment of Women on Empowerment of Women (13th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. ———. 2007. Twelfth Report on Plight of Indian Women Deserted by NRI Husbands (14th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. ———. 2011. Twelfth Report on Working of National Commission for Women and State Commissions for Women (15th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. ———. 2012. Seventeenth Report on Action Taken by the Government on the Recommendations Contained in the Twelfth Report of the Committee on Empowerment of Women on Working of National Commission for Women and State Commissions for Women (15th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. ———. 2014. Second Report on Action Taken by the Government on the Recommendations Contained in the Twenty First Report of the Committee on Empowerment of Women on Working Conditions of Women in Police Force (16th Lok Sabha). New Delhi. Constitution of India. 2007. Available at http://lawmin.nic.in/coi/coiason29july08.pdf, last accessed on 26 October 2017. Coole, D. 2007. ‘Experiencing Discourse: Corporeal Communicators and the Embodiment of Power’. British Journal of Politics and International Relations 9 (3): 413–33. Corbett, Jack P. and S. Sweeney. 2014. ‘Legislatures in Decline? The Parliamentary Decline Thesis as Observed in Scandinavia’. University College Cork. Available at https://www.ucc.ie/en/media/academic/government/governmentpolreview/JackCorbettShannonSweeney.pdf. Corbridge, S. 1999. ‘The Militarization of All Hindudom? The Bharatiya Janata Party, the Bomb, and the Political Spaces of Hindu Nationalism’. Economy and Society 28 (2): 222–55. Cornwall, Andrea, Elizabeth Harrison, and Ann Whitehead. 2007. ‘Gender Myths and Feminist Fables: The Struggle for Interpretive Power in Gender and Development’. Development and Change 38 (1): 1–20. DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-7660.2007.00400.x. Cornwall, A. and A. Whitehead. 2007. Feminisms in Development: Contradictions, Contestations and Challenges. London: Zed Books. Crewe, E. 2014a. ‘Ethnographic Research in Gendered Organizations: The Case of the Westminster Parliament’. Politics and Gender 10 (4): 673–8. ———. 2014b. ‘Westminster Parliamentarians: Performing Politics’. In Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament edited by S.M. Rai and R. E. Johnson. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.. Crewe, E. and M. G. Müller (eds). 2006. Rituals in Parliament: Political, Anthropological, and Historical Perspectives on Europe and the United States. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang.

Bibliography 355

Crick, Bernard. 1964. The Reform of Parliament. London: Littlehampton Book Services Ltd. CSR and UN. 2014. Violence against Women in Politics: A Study Conducted in India, Nepal and Pakistan. New Delhi: Centre for Social Research and UN Women Office for India, Bhutan, Maldives and Sri Lanka. Available at http://www.unwomen.org/-/media/headquarters/attachments/sections/ library/publications/2014/violence%20against%20women%20in%20 politics-report.pdf?la=en&vs=4441, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Currell, M. E. 1974. Political Woman. Croom Helm: Rowman & Littlefield. Dagar, R. 2011. ‘Gender Discourse in Elections: Constructing a Constituency?’ In India’s 2009 Elections: Coalition Politics, Party Competition, and Congress Continuity edited by P. Wallace and R. Roy. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Dahlerup, D. 1988. ‘From a Small to a Large Minority: Women in Scandinavian Politics’. Scandinavian Political Studies 11 (4): 275–98. ———. (ed). 2005. Women, Quotas and Politics. London: Routledge. Dahlerup, D. and L. Friedenwall. 2006. ‘Quotas as a “Fast Track” to Equal Representation for Women’. International Feminist Journal of Politics 7 (1): 26–48. Datta, D. and K. Tare. 2011. ‘Rahul’s Lost Widows’. India Today, 28 October. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/suicide-in-vidarbha-rahulgandhi-kalawati/1/157775.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Deo, N. 2016. Mobilizing Religion and Gender in India. Abingdon: Routledge. Derichs, C. and M. R. Thompson. 2013. Dynasties and Female Political Leaders in Asia: Gender, Power and Pedigree. Zurich: LIT. Deshpande, A. 2011. The Grammar of Caste: Economic Discrimination in Contemporary India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Deshpande, Rajeshwari. 2009. ‘How Did Women Vote in Lok Sabha Elections 2009?’ Economic and Political Weekly 44 (39): 82–7. ———. 2014. ‘Women’s Vote in 2014’. The Hindu, 26 June. Available at http:// www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/womens-vote-in-2014/article6151723. ece?ref=relatedNews, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Devenish, A. 2013. ‘Performing the Political Self: A Study of Identity Making and Self-Representation in the autobiographies of India’s First Generation of Parliamentary Women’. Women’s History Review 22 (2): 280–94. Devi, G. 1995. A Princess Remembers: The Memoirs of the Maharani of Jaipur. New Delhi: Rupa & Co. Devika, J. and B. V. Thampi. 2012. New Lamps for Old? Gender Paradoxes of Political Decentralisation in Kerala. New Delhi: Zubaan Publication. Devlin, C. and E. Robert. 2008. ‘The Effect of Increased Women’s Representation in Parliament: The Case of Rwanda’. Parliamentary Affairs 61 (2): 237–54. Diamond, I. and N. Hartsock. 1981. ‘Beyond Interests in Politics: A Comment on Virginia Sapiro’s “When Are Interests Interesting? The Problem of Political Representation of Women”’. The American Political Science Review 75 (3): 717–21.

356

Bibliography

Dickey, S. 1993. ‘The Politics of Adulation: Cinema and the Production of Politicians in South India’. Journal of Asian Studies 52 (2): 340–72. ———. 2003. ‘Opposing Faces: Film Star Fan Clubs and the Construction of Class Identities in South India’. In Pleasure and the Nation: The History, Politics and Consumption of Public Culture in India edited by R. Dwyer and C. Pinney. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Doga, Chander Suta. 2014. ‘In Chandigarh, the Choice Is between Youth and Experience’, The Hindu, 27 March 2014. Available at http://www.thehindu. com/news/national/in-chandigarh-the-choice-is-between-youth-and-experience/article5836656.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Dollar, D., R. Fisman, and R. Gatti. 1999. Are Women Really the ‘Fairer’ Sex? Corruption and Women in Government. Working Paper Series, no. 4, Policy Research Report on Gender and Development. New York: World Bank. Doval, N. 2015. ‘Sonia Gandhi vs Sushma Swaraj: The Fiercest Rivalry in Indian Politics’. LiveMint, 17 August. Available at http://www.livemint. com/Politics/rcMS0KaSoR8fIP3kS9FwZN/Sonia-Gandhi-vs-SushmaSwaraj-The-fiercest-rivalry-in-India.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Dovey, K. 1999. Framing Places: Mediating Power in Built Form. New York: Routledge. Duflo, Esther and Petia Topalova. 2004. ‘Unappreciated Service: Performance, Perceptions, and Women: Leaders in India’. Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). Available at https://economics.mit.edu/files/793, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Dutt, B. 2014. ‘“Does Rahul Have Audacity to Debate Me”: Smriti Irani to NDTV’. NDTV, 10 April. Available at https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=YWbO0_Sitxk, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2015. ‘Barkha Dutt On the Women’s Safety Remarks That Went Viral’. NDTV Opinion, 30 April. Available at http://www.ndtv.com/opinion/barkha-dutt-on-the-womens-safety-remarks-that-went-viral-759587, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2017. ‘Let’s Talk about Trolls: Online Abuse a Weapon to Silence Women: Barkha Dutt’. Hindustan Times, 12 May. Available at http:// www.hindustantimes.com/india-news/let-s-talk-about-trolls-trolling-is-aweapon-to-silence-women-barkha-dutt/story-A9X3fAuRwZiwVrhYQnKbYL.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Dutta, A. 2013. ‘In Nagaland, Politics Still Remains Elusive for Women’. The Hindu, 9 March. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todayspaper/tp-national/in-nagaland-politics-still-remains-elusive-to-women/ article4490225.ece, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Dzuvihu, R. 2016. ‘Unpacking Reservation: The Naga Gender Equity Question’. The Morung Express, 15 January. Available at http://morungexpress.com/ unpacking-reservation-the-naga-gender-equity-question/, last accessed on 10 May 2018.

Bibliography 357

Eagly, A. H. and V. T. Johnson. 1990. ‘Gender and Leadership-Style’. Psychological Bulletin 108: 233–56. Economic Times, The. 2014. ‘Uttar Pradesh Gang Rapes: Centre Warns Akhilesh Yadav Government, Says It Should Go’. 2 June. Available at https:// economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/politics-and-nation/uttar-pradeshgang-rapes-centre-warns-akhilesh-yadav-government-says-it-should-go/ articleshow/35961509.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2015. ‘When Sushma Swaraj & Supriya Sule Shared the Same Problem’. 17 September. Available at http://economictimes.indiatimes. com/magazines/panache/when-sushma-swaraj-supriya-sule-shared-thesame-problem/articleshow/48996752.cms, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2017. ‘CPM’s Best Orator Sitaram Yechury Not to Get Another Rajya Sabha Term’. 25 July. Available at http://economictimes.indiatimes. com/articleshow/59761516.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&utm_ medium=text&utm_campaign=cppst, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Election Commission of India (ECI). n.d. Election Results—Full Statistical Reports. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main1/ElectionStatistics.aspx, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1951. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1951 to the First Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1951/VOL_1_51_LS.PDF, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1957. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1957 to the 2nd Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1957/Vol_I_57_LS.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1962. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1962 to the 3rd Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1962/Vol_I_LS_62.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1968. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1967 to the 4th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1967/Vol_I_LS_67.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1973. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1971 to the 5th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1971/Vol_I_LS71.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1978. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1977 to the 6th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1977/Vol_I_LS_77.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1981. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1980 to the 7th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1980/Vol_I_LS_80.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1985. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1984 to the 8th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1984/Vol_I_LS_84.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018.

358

Bibliography

Election Commission of India (ECI). 1990. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1989 to the 9th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic. in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/LS_1989/Vol_I_LS_89.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1992. Statistical Report on General Elections, 10th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/LS_1991/ VOL_I_91.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1996. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1996 to the 12th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1996/Vol_I_LS_96.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1998. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1998 to the 12th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1998/Vol_I_LS_98.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 1999. Statistical Report on General Elections, 1999 to the 13th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_1999/Vol_I_LS_99.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2004. Statistical Report on General Elections, 2004 to the 14th Lok Sabha, volume 1. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/StatisticalReports/ LS_2004/Vol_I_LS_2004.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2006. Statistical Report on General Election, 2006 to the Legislative Assembly of Tamil Nadu. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/Statistical Reports/SE_2006/StatReport_TN_2006.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2009a. ‘Notification No. 56/2009/PPS-II (New Delhi)’. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main/ElectoralLaws/OrdersNotifications/symbols 170309.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2009b. ‘General Elections, 2009 (15th Lok Sabha): Table 12-Performance of National Parties’. Available at http://www.eci.nic.in/ eci_main/archiveofge2009/Stats/VOLI/12_PerformanceOfNationalParties. pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2009c. ‘General Elections, 2009 (15th Lok Sabha): Table 13-Performance of State Parties’. Available at http://www.eci.nic.in/eci_ main/archiveofge2009/Stats/VOLI/13_PerformanceOfStateParty.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2009d. ‘General Elections, 2009 (15th Lok Sabha): Table 14-Performance of Registered (Unrecognised) Parties’. Available at http://www.eci.nic.in/ eci_main/archiveofge2009/Stats/VOLI/14_PerformanceOfRegistered_ UnRecognisedParties.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2009e. ‘General Elections, 2009 (15th Lok Sabha): Table 8-Voters Information’. Available at http://www.eci.nic.in/eci_main/archiveofge2009/ Stats/VOLI/08_VotersInformation.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2014. Statistical Report on General Elections, 2014 to the 16th Lok Sabha. Available at http://eci.nic.in/eci_main1/statistical_reportge2014. aspx, last accessed on 10 May 2018.

Bibliography 359

Elgie, R. and J. Stapleton. 2006. ‘Testing the Decline of Parliament Thesis: Ireland, 1923–2002’. Political Studies 54 (3): 465–85. Elin, D., Denise Varney, and Candice Amich (eds). 2017. Performance, Feminism and Affect in Neoliberal Times. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Esarey, J. and G. Chirillo. 2013. ‘“Fairer Sex” or Purity Myth? Corruption, Gender, and Institutional Context’. Politics & Gender 9: 361–89. Ernst & Young. 2016. ‘Decoding the Implications of the Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal) Act 2013’. Available at http://www.ey.com/Publication/vwLUAssets/EYDecoding-the-implications-of-the-Sexual-Harassment-of-Women-atWorkplace-Act-2013/$FILE/EY-Decoding-the-implications-of-the-SexualHarassment-of-Women-at-Workplace-Act-2013.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Faleiro, S. 2013. ‘India Gang-Rape Sentencing Shows Attitudes to Women Are Changing’. The Guardian, 13 September. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/sep/13/india-gang-rape-attitudes-womenchanging, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Faludi, Susan. 1993. Backlash: The Undeclared War against Women. London: Random House. Fareed, M. F. 2014. ‘Azam Khan’s Wife Fatima Rejects Mulayam’s Rajya Sabha Ticket Offer’. Indian Express, 1 November. Available at http://indianexpress. com/article/india/politics/azam-khans-wife-rejects-mulayams-rajya-sabhaticket-offer/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Farooqui, A. and E. Sridharan. 2014. ‘Incumbency, Internal Processes and Renomination in Indian Parties’. Commonwealth & Comparative Politics 52 (1): 78–108. Femina. 2017. ‘Tweeting for Change: Ramya (Politician)’, 3 August. Ferrario, Margaret. 1991. ‘Sex Differences in Leadership Style: Myth or Reality’. Women in Management Review and Abstracts 6 (3): 16–21. Financial Express. 2017. ‘Sibal Attacks Narendra Modi, Rakes Up Gifting of “Bangles to PM” Issue’, 1 May. Available at https://www.financialexpress.com/ india-news/mutilation-of-jawans-kapil-sibal-attacks-narendra-modi-rakes-upgifting-of-bangles-to-pm-issue/649757/, last accessed on 12 June 2018. Financial Times, The. 2016. ‘Why India’s Demonetisation Alone Won’t End Dirty Money in Politics’. 28 November. Available at https://ftalphaville. ft.com/2016/11/28/2180376/guest-post-why-indias-demonetisation-alonewont-end-dirty-money-in-politics/?mhq5j=e5 last accessed on 6 October 2017. Forbes, Geraldine. 1982. ‘Caged Tigers: “First Wave” Feminists in India’. Women’s Studies International Forum 5 (6): 525–36. ———. 1996. Women in Modern India, New Cambridge History of India series. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. ———. 2005. Women in Colonial India: Essays on Medicine, Politics, and History. Delhi: Chronicle Books.

360

Bibliography

Franceschet, S. and J. M. Piscopo. 2008. ‘Gender Quotas and Women’s Substantive Representation: Lessons from Argentina’. Politics & Gender 4 (3): 393–425. Fraser, Nancy. 1989. Unruly Practices: Power, Discourse and Gender in Contemporary Social Theory. Cambridge: Polity Press. ———. 1995. ‘From Redistribution to Recognition? Dilemmas of Justice in a “Post-Socialist” Age’. New Left Review 212: 68–93. ———. 2009. ‘Feminism, Capitalism and the Cunning of History’. New Left Review 56 (March–April): 97–117. ———. 2013. ‘How Feminism Became Capitalism’s Handmaiden—and How to Reclaim It’. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/oct/14/feminism-capitalist-handmaiden-neoliberal, last accessed on 1 June 2008. Gains, Francesca and Vivien Lowndes. 2014. ‘How Is Institutional Formation Gendered, and Does It Make a Difference? A New Conceptual Framework and a Case Study of Police and Crime Commissioners in England and Wales’, Politics & Gender 10 (4): 524–48. Galligan, Y. and P. Mein. 2016. ‘The Gender-Sensitive Parliament: Recognising the Gendered Nature of Parliaments’. IPSA World Congress Poznan, Poland. Available at http://paperroom.ipsa.org/papers/view/52358, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Gangoli, G. 2007. Indian Feminisms: Law, Patriarchies, and Violence in India. Aldershot, Burlington, Vt.: Ashgate. Gangoli, G. and M. Rew. 2011. ‘Mothers-In-Law against Daughters-In-Law: Domestic Violence and Legal Discourses around Mother-In-Law Violence Against Daughters-In-Law in India’. Women’s Studies International Forum 34 (5): 420–9. Genovese, Michael A. and Janie S. Steckenrider. 2013. Women as Political Leaders: Studies in Gender and Governing. London: Routledge. Ghosh, Abantika. 2015. ‘Sharad Yadav Talks of “Saanvli South Women… Their Bodies”’. Indian Express, 13 March. Available at http://indianexpress.com/ article/india/india-others/sharad-yadav-talks-of-saanvli-south-women-theirbodies/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Ghosh, Archana and Stéphanie Tawa Lama-Rewal. 2005. Democratization in Progress: Women and Local Politics in Urban India. New Delhi: Tulika Books. Ghosh, Jayati. 2015. ‘India’s Rural Employment Programme Is Dying a Death of Funding Cuts’. The Guardian, 5 February. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/feb/05/india-rural-employmentfunding-cuts-mgnrega, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Ghosh, Shamik. 2014. ‘“AAP Doesn’t Treat Women as Humans,” Says Founder Member Madhu Bhaduri as She Quits’. NDTV, 3 February. Available at http://www.ndtv.com/delhi-news/aap-doesnt-treat-women-ashumans-says-founder-member-madhu-bhaduri-as-she-quits-549585, last accessed on 10 May 2018.

Bibliography 361

Ghoshal, D. 2014. ‘These Charts Answer an Age-Old Question—Can Money Win You Elections In India?’, Quartz India, 8 October. Available athttps:// qz.com/277181/these-charts-answer-an-age-old-question-can-money-winyou-elections-in-india/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Giddens, Anthony. 1991. The Consequences of Modernity. Cambridge: Polity Press. Gilligan, Carol. 1982. In a Different Voice. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Githens, Marianne and Jewel Limar Prestage. 1977. A Portrait of Marginality: The Political Behavior of the American Woman. London: Longman Group. Goetz, A. M. 2007. ‘Political Cleaners: Women as the New Anti-Corruption Force?’ Development and Change 38 (1), 87–105. Goetz, A. M. and S. Hassim (eds). 2003. No Shortcuts to Power: African Women in Politics and Policy-Making. London: Zed Books. Goetz, Anne-Marie and Rob Jenkins. 2004. Reinventing Accountability: Making Democracy Work for Human Development. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Goffman, Erving. 1990. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. London: Penguin. Goodsell, C. T. 1988. ‘The Architecture of Parliaments: Legislative Houses and Political Culture’. British Journal of Political Science 18 (3): 287–302. Gopal, J. N. 2006. Representing India. Ethnic Diversity and the Governance of Public Institutions. Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan. Gorringe, H. 2017. ‘Rescuing Gender from the Dalit Trap? The Intersection of Caste and Gender in Tamil Dalit Movements’. In Unsettling the Archetypes: Femininities and Masculinities in Indian Politics edited by M. Ciotti. New Delhi: Women Unlimited. Goswami, B. 2002. Parliament and Administration: Parliament’s Control over Budget and Legislation. Jaipur: Rawat Publications. Government of India (GOI). 1963. The Official Languages Act. Available at http://rajbhasha.nic.in/en/official-languages-act-1963, last accessed on 10 May2018. ———. 2006. Social, Economic and Educational Status of the Muslim Community of India: A Report. Available at https://www.sabrang.com/ sachar/sacharreport.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2011. 31st Report on Performance Audit of the Implementation of the Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme. Available a http:// saiindia.gov.in/sites/default/files/audit_report_files/Union_Performance_Local_ area_Development_Scheme_31_2010.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2014. Electoral Disqualifications, Law Commission of India. Report No. 244, February. http://lawcommissionofindia.nic.in/reports/report244. pdf, last accessed on 6 October 2017. Grace, J. and M. Sawer. 2016. ‘Specialised Parliamentary Bodies: Their Role and Relevance to Women’s Movement Repertoire’. Parliamentary Affairs 69 (2): 1–15.

362

Bibliography

Guha, Ramachandra. 2007. India after Gandhi: The History of the World. Basingstoke: Pan Books. Guichard, S. 2013. ‘How Autonomous Are the Branches? A Study of Narendra Modi’s BJP’. Economic and Political Weekly 48 (9): 40–6. Gulzar. 2017. Suspected Poems, translated by Pavan K. Varma. Viking. Gupta, Monobina. 2012. Didi: A Political Biography. New Delhi: Harper Collins Publishers India. Gupta, Suchandana. 2010. ‘Rajya Sabha Row: Scholarly Debate Stifled in India?’ Times of India, 13 December. Available at http://articles.timesofindia. indiatimes.com/2010-12-13/india/28254510_1_elections-honest-politicalleaders-shivraj-singh-chouhan, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Gupta, Shekhar. 2015. ‘Makeover at 44’. India Today (May edition), 20–1. Gupta, U. N. 2003. Indian Parliamentary Democracy. Atlantic Publishers & Distributors. Halley, J., Prabha Kotiswaran, Hila Shamir, and Chantal Thomas. 2006. ‘From the International to the Local in Feminist Legal Responses to Rape, Prostitution/Sex Work, and Sex Trafficking: Four Studies in Contemporary Governance Feminism’. Harvard Journal of Law and Gender 29: 336–423. Hasan, Z. 2012. Congress after Indira: Policy, Power and Political Change 1984– 2009. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hassim, S. 2004. ‘A Virtuous Circle? Gender Equality and Representation in South Africa’. State of the Nation South Africa 2004–2005 edited by J. Daniel, R. Southall, and J. Lutchman. Cape Town: Human Sciences Research Council Press. ———. 2006. Women’s Organizations and Democracy in South Africa: Contesting Authority. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. ———. 2016. Paper on South Africa Experience. Agenda for Equality: The Possibilities and Limits of Affirmative Action (Workshop held at Warwick University May 2016). Hawkesworth, M. R. 2003. ‘Congressional Enactments of Race and Gender: Towards a Theory of Raced-Gendered Institutions’. American Political Science Review 97 (4): 529–50. Heath, Roseanna Michelle, Leslie A. Schwindt-Bayer, and Michelle M. TaylorRobinson. 2005. ‘Women on the Sidelines: Women’s Representation on Committees in Latin American Legislatures’. American Journal of Political Science 49 (2): 420–36. Helgeson, S. 1990. The Female Advantage. New York: Doubleday/Currency. Herman, V. and J. Lodge. 1978. ‘The European Parliament and the “Decline of Legislatures” Thesis’. Politics 13 (1): 10–25. Hewitt, Vernon. 2006. ‘A Cautionary Tale: Colonial and Post-Colonial Conceptions of Good Government and Democratisation in Africa’. Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 44 (1): 41–61.

Bibliography 363

Hewitt, Vernon and Shirin M. Rai. 2010. ‘The Indian Parliament’. In The Oxford Companion to Politics in India edited by Niraja Gopal Jayal and Bhanu Pratap Mehta. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Hindu, The. 1962. ‘Third Lok Sabha Meets’. 17 April: 1, 7. ———. 2003. ‘The Politics of No-Confidence’. 21 August. Available at http:// www.thehindu.com/2003/08/21/stories/2003082101271000.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2005. ‘Awestruck at Women Power’. 25 August. Available at http:// www.thehindu.com/2005/08/25/stories/2005082514970100.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2007. ‘Nandigram: Brinda Karat Sees a Conspiracy’. 5 November. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/Nandigram-Brinda-Karat-sees-a-conspiracy/article14870204.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008a. ‘Mamata to Abstain from Voting’. 22 July. Available at Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/mamata-to-abstainfrom-voting/article1305126.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008b. ‘SP, BSP Clash’. 22 July. Available at http://www.thehindu. com/todays-paper/tp-national/sp-bsp-clash/article1305374.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008c. ‘Suspense, Excitement and Drama…It Was All There’. 23 July. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/suspense-excitementand-drama-it-was-all-there/article1312632.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2009a. ‘EC Censures BSP Candidate’. 3 May. Available at http:// www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/tp-newdelhi/ec-censures-bspcandidate/article274574.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2009b. ‘Editorial: Legitimating the Other’. 18 November. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/editorial/legitimising-the-other/article 50452.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2009c. ‘Tharoor Wants More Indian Politicians to Use Twitter’, 19 October. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/Tharoorwants-more-Indian-politicians-to-use-Twitter/article16887463.ece, last accessed on 24 April 2018. ———. 2010a. ‘The 14 Years Journey of Women’s Reservation Bill’, 9 March. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/The-14-years-journey-of-Womenrsquos-Reservation-Bill/article16550273.ece, last accessed on 13 April 2018. ———. 2010b. Lok Sabha Clears MPs’ Salary Hike. Available at http://www. thehindu.com/news/national/Lok-Sabha-clears-MPsrsquo-salary-hike/ article16147048.ece, last accessed on 15 May 2018. Hindustan Times. 2010. ‘Mulayam Links Women’s Reservation Bill to Eve Teasing’. 24 March. Available at http://www.hindustantimes.com/lucknow/

364

Bibliography

mulayam-links-women-s-reservation-bill-to-eve-teasing/story-AxoNJ9QYdKXVc7CdBYBc9O.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Hobsbawm, E. and T. O. Ranger. 2012 [1999]. The Invention of Tradition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hockin, Thomas A. 1977. Apex of Power: The Prime Minister and Political Leadership in Canada. Scarborough: Prentice-Hall. Htun, M. 2016. Inclusion without Representation in Latin America. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hutchison, R. and E. Bleiker. 2014. ‘Theorizing Emotions in World Politics’. International Theory 6 (3): 491–514. Huntington, S. J. 1968. Political Order in Changing Societies. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. India Today. 2014a. ‘The MP Report Card’. Available at http://election.intoday. in/mpreport/index.php, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2014b. ‘Rahul Gandhi Lags at the Bottom of India’s First MP Rankings’. 27. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/rahul-gandhilags-india-first-mp-rankings-2014-lok-sabha-polls/1/351577.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Indian Express. 2010. ‘Mulayam Draws Flak for His “Sexist” Remark on Women’. 24 March. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/india/ latest-news/mulayam-draws-flak-for-his-sexist-remark-on-women/feed/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2014. ‘AAP Founding Member Madhu Bhaduri Quits, Says Party Doesn’t Consider Women as Human Beings’. 2 February. Available at http:// indianexpress.com/article/india/politics/aap-founding-member-madhubhaduri-quits-says-party-doesnt-consider-women-as-human-beings/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2015a. ‘After Saanvli Comment, Sharad Yadav Tells Smriti Irani: “I know What You Are”’. 17 March. Available at http://indianexpress.com/ article/india/india-others/sharad-yadav-unapologetic-over-saanvli-remark/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2015b. ‘Tunch Maal to Sanvli, Ten Sexist Remarks by Politicians On Women’. 16 March. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/india/ politics/tunch-maal-to-sanvli-ten-sexist-remarks-by-politicians-on-women/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2015c. ‘Vidarbha Farmer Widow Kalavati Wants Rahul Gandhi to Help Her Sons’. 30 April. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/ india/maharashtra/vidarbha-farmer-widow-kalavati-wants-rahul-gandhi-tohelp-her-sons/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2017. ‘Maneka Gandhi Takes on Cyber Trolls, Asks Women Victims to Inform Her’. 6 July. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/india/ india-news-india/maneka-gandhi-takes-on-cyber-trolls-asks-women-victims-to-inform-her-2896042/, last accessed on 10 May 2018

Bibliography 365

Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU). 2006. ‘The Role of Parliamentary Committees in Mainstreaming Gender and Promoting the Status of Women: Seminar for Members of Parliamentary Bodies Dealing with Gender Equality’, 4–6 December 2006. Geneva, Reports and Documents no. 52. Available at https://www.ipu.org/resources/publications/reference/2016-07/role-parliamentary-committees-in-mainstreaming-gender-and-promoting-statuswomen, last accessed on 30 May 2018. ———. 2011a. Gender-Sensitive Parliaments: A Global Review of Good Practice. Reports and document no. 65. Available at http://archive.ipu.org/ pdf/publications/gsp11-e.pdf, last accessed 27 October 2017. ———. 2011b. Women in Parliament in 2011: The Year in Perspective. Available at http://archive.ipu.org/pdf/publications/wmnpersp11-e.pdf, last accessed on 26 October 2017. ———. 2012. Plan of Action for Gender-Sensitive Parliaments. Adopted unanimously by the 127th IPU Assembly (Quebec City, 26 October). Available at http://archive.ipu.org/conf-e/127/res-plan.htm, last accessed on 27 October 2017. ———. 2015. Women in Parliament: 20 Years in Review. Available at http:// archive.ipu.org/pdf/publications/WIP20Y-en.pdf, last accessed on 15 February 2017. ———. 2017a. ‘Women in National Parliaments’. Available at http://archive. ipu.org/WMN-e/classif.htm, last accessed on 10 May 2018. ———. 2017b. ‘Women in Politics: 2017’. United Nations Entity for Gender Equality and the Empowerment of Women. Available at http://archive.ipu. org/english/Surveys.htm#MAP2017, last accessed on 12 June 2018. Jacob, S. 2014. ‘Gender and Legislative Performance in India’. Politics and Gender 10 (2): 236–64. Jaffrelot, C. 2009a. ‘Introduction’. In Rise of the Plebians? The Changing Face of Indian Legislative Assemblies edited by C. Jaffrelot and S. Kumar. New Delhi: Routledge. ———. 2009b. ‘The Uneven Rise of Lower Castes in the Politics of Madhya Pradesh’. In Rise of the Plebians? The Changing Face of Indian Legislative Assemblies edited by C. Jaffrelot and S. Kumar. New Delhi: Routledge. Jaffrelot, C. and J. Verniers. 2015. ‘The Representation Gap’. Indian Express, 24 July. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/therepresentation-gap-2/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Jagannath, G. 2014. ‘BJP-Led Front Fails to Field a Single Woman Contestant in Tamil Nadu’. Deccan Chronicle, 2 April. Available at http://www. deccanchronicle.com/140402/nation-politics/article/bjp-led-front-failsfield-single-woman-contestant-tamil-nadu, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Jagannath, G. 2016. ‘My Fight Is against Corrupt System: V Vasanthi Devi’. Deccan Chronicle, 25 April. Available at http://www.deccanchronicle.com/

366

Bibliography

nation/politics/250416/my-fight-is-against-corrupt-system-v-vasanthi-devi. html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Jain, S. 2005. ‘Women Didn’t Receive Rights without a Struggle’. Indian Express, 13 September. Available at http://archive.indianexpress.com/oldStory/78008, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Jalal, A. 1995. Democracy and Authoritarianism in South Asia: A Comparative and Historical Perspective. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Jalalzai, Farida. 2008. ‘Women Rule: Shattering the Executive Glass Ceiling’. Politics & Gender 4: 205–31. Jalalzai, Farida and Mona Lena Krook. 2010. ‘Beyond Hillary and Benazir: Women’s Political Leadership Worldwide’. International Political Science Review 31 (1): 5–21. Jayal, N. G. 2001. Democracy in India. Oxford and New Delhi: Oxford University Press. ———. 2006a. ‘Engendering Local Democracy: The Impact of Quotas for Women in India’s Panchayats’. Democratization 13 (1): 15–35. ———. 2006b. Representing India: Ethnic Diversity and the Governance of Public Institutions. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. ———. 2013. Citizenship and Its Discontents: An Indian History. New Delhi: Permanent Black. Jeffrey, R. 1992. Politics, Women and Wellbeing: How Kerala Became a Model. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Jensenius, F. R. 2016. ‘Competing Inequalities? On the Intersection of Gender and Ethnicity in Candidate Nominations in Indian Elections’. Government & Opposition 51 (3): 440–63. Jesudasen, Y. 2006. Voices of Freedom Movement. Chennai: Sura Books (Pvt) Ltd. Jha, Dwijendra Narayan. 2006. ‘Looking for a Hindu Identity’. Available at http://www.stopfundinghate.org/resources/DNJhaHinduIdentity.pdf, last accessed on 29 May 2018. Jha, R. K. 2009. ‘Evaluating Parliamentary Committees and Committee System: Changing Contours of Governance and Policy’. In Citizen’s Report on Governance and Development 2010, National Social Watch Coalition, vol. 2. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Jha, Sanjay Kumar. 1998. ‘Election Images: Kanti Singh’. India Today, 23 February. Available at http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/bihar-despite-herlow-popularity-kanti-singh-may-ride-on-laloo-prasads-name/1/263470. html, last accessed on 15 February 2017. John, R. 2015. ‘A Rapist Is a Rapist’. India Today, 18 May. Johnson, R. E. and S. M. Rai. 2015. ‘Introducing Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual’. In Democracy in Practice edited by Shirin M. Rai and R. E. Johnson. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Jonasdottir, A. G. 1988. ‘On the Concept of Interest, Women’s Interests and the Limitation of Interest Theory’. In The Political Interests of Gender: Developing

Bibliography 367

Theory and Research with a Feminist Perspective edited by A. G. Jonnasdottir and K. B. Jones. London: Sage Publications. Joshi, P. 1989. Gandhi on Women. New Delhi: Navjivan Press. Joshi, S. 2001. Fractured Modernity: Making of a Middle Class in Colonial North India. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Kantola, J. 2006. Feminists Theorize the State. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan Kapoor, Pramod. 2011. ‘The Building of New Delhi’. The Wall Street Journal, 16 November. Available at https://blogs.wsj.com/indiarealtime/2011/11/16/ the-building-of-new-delhi/, last accessed on 1 January 2013. Kapur, Devesh and Pratap Bhanu Mehta. 2005. Public Institutions in India: Performance and Design. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Kapur, Devesh and Milan Vaishnav. 2011. ‘Quid Pro Quo: Builders, Politicians, and Election Finance in India’. CGD Working Paper 276. Washington, D.C.: Center for Global Development. Available at http://www.cgdev.org/ content/publications/detail/1425795, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Karat, B. 2005. Survival and Emancipation: Notes from Indian Women’s Struggles. Gurgaon: Three Essays. Karlekar, K. D. 2005. ‘Muslim Women in Indian Politics 1947–2002’. In In a Minority: Essays on Muslim Women in India edited by Z. Hasan and R. Menon. Delhi: Oxford University Press. Karunanidhi, Kanimozhi. 2015. ‘A Bill for Juvenile Justice’. The Hindu, 27 April. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/juvenilejustice-bill-a-bill-for-juvenile-injustice/article7143729.ece, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Kashyap, S. C. 2008. History of the Parliament of India. Delhi: Radha Publications Katakam, A. and A. Alluri. 2014. ‘A Brief History (Or the Lack Thereof ) of Women in Parliament’. The 545, 9 March. Available at http://thefivefortyfive.com/a-brief-history-or-the-lack-thereof-of-women-in-parliament, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Kathlene, L. 1994. ‘Power and Influence in State Legislative Policy-Making: The Interaction of Gender and Position in Committee Hearing Debates’. American Political Science Review 88 (3): 560–76. Kaur, Harpreet. 2014. ‘Santosh Chowdhary Accuses Kaypee of “Stabbing”’. Hindustan Times, 3 April. Available at https://www.hindustantimes.com/ punjab/santosh-chowdhary-accuses-kaypee-of-stabbing/story-qU9srMF22GOlp1pnT9gVgJ.html, last accessed on 7 May 2018. Kaushal, R. 2010. ‘Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005— An Appraisal’. Mainstream 48 (11). Available at http://www.mainstreamweekly.net/article1936.html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Keefer, P. and S. Khemani. 2009. ‘When Do Legislators Pass on Pork? The Role of Political Parties in Determining Legislator Effort’. American Political Science Review 103 (1): 99–112.

368

Bibliography

Kenny, M. 2008. ‘The “Story” of a Selection: Gender and the Institutions of Political Recruitment in Post-Devolution Scotland’. European Consortium of Political Research Joint Sessions of Workshops (Rennes). Kenny, M. and F. Mackay. 2014. ‘When Is Contagion Not Very Contagious? Dynamics of Women’s Political Representation in Scotland’. Parliamentary Affairs 67 (4): 866–86. Kertzer, D. 1988. Ritual, Politics and Power. New Haven: Yale University Press. Kesavan, M. 2008. ‘Best Seat in the House: The Confidence Vote Had All the Elements of Epic Theatre’. The Telegraph, 24 July. Available at http://www. telegraphindia.com/1080724/jsp/opinion/story_9590922.jsp, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Khan, Atiq. 2009. ‘SP Protest Remarks against Nafisa Ali’. The Hindu, 19 April. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/tp-national/spprotests-remarks-against-nafisa-ali/article311145.ece?css=print, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008. Making of India’s Constitution (2nd edn). Lucknow: Eastern Book Co. Khanna, H.R. 2008. Making of India’s Constitution, 2nd ed. Lucknow: Eastern Book Co. Khapre, S. 2014. ‘Death in the Congress’. Indian Express, 13 April. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/india/politics/death-in-the-congress/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Khera, R. and N. Nayak. 2011. ‘Women Workers and the Perceptions of the NREGA’. In The Battle for Employment Guarantee edited by R. Khera. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Khilnani, S. 2003. Idea of India. New Delhi: Penguin Books. Khobragade, R. 2004. Women’s Reservation Bill: A Deep Conspiracy to Deprive the Bahujans of Their Political Power. New Delhi: Sajag Prahari Publications. Kidwai, A. 2011. In Freedom’s Shade. Gurgaon: Penguin Random House India. Kishwar, M. 1996. ‘Women and Politics: Beyond Quotas’. Economic and Political Weekly 31 (43): 2867–74. ———. 2015. ‘In Politics Women Must Avoid Seeking Patronized Entry’. Madhu (Purnima) Kishwar’s Blog, 17 March. Available at http://madhukishwar.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/in-politics-women-must-avoid-seeking. html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Kitschelt, H. and S. I. Wilkinson. 2007. Patrons, Clients, and Policies: Patterns of Democratic Accountability and Political Competition. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kittilson, M. C. 2006. Challenging Parties, Changing Parliaments: Women and Elected Office in Contemporary Western Europe. Ohio: Ohio State University Press. Kohli, Atul. 1991. Democracy and Discontent: India’s Growing Crisis of Governability. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Bibliography 369

Kovacs, A., R. Kaul Padte, and S. V. Shobha. 2013. ‘“Don’t Let It Stand!” An Exploratory Study of Women and Verbal Online Abuse in India’. Internet Democracy Project, New Delhi, India, April. Available at https://internetdemocracy.in/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/Internet-Democracy-ProjectWomen-and-Online-Abuse.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Krishnan, K. 2007. ‘Nandigram: Fact and CPI(M)’s Fiction’. Available at http:// www.countercurrents.org/kavita250407.htm, last accessed on 6 August 2018. ———. 2014. ‘Political Discourse on Gender Hits an All-Time Low’. The Hindu, 3 May. Available at http://www.thehinducentre.com/verdict/commentary/article5968909.ece, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Krishnan, R. 2014. ‘Young MPs Trump Celebrity, Older Counterparts in Lok Sabha Duties’. Live Mint, 28 April. Available at http://www.livemint.com/ Politics/ng1xquE2sXw1gsPxfI8O2L/Where-age-trumps-celebrity-status. html, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Krook, M. and F. Mackay (eds). 2015. Gender, Politics and Institutions: Towards a Feminist Institutionalism. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Krook, Mona Lena and Par Zetterberg (eds). 2015. Gender Quotas and Women’s Representation: New Directions in Research. New York: Routledge. Kudva, N. and K. Misra. 2008. ‘Gender Quotas, the Politics of Presence, and the Feminist Project: What Does the Indian Experience Tell Us?’ Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 34 (1), 49–73. Kulawik, Teresa. 2009. ‘Staking the Frame of a Feminist Discursive Institutionalism’. Politics and Gender 5 (2). DOI: 10.1017/ S1743923X0900021X Kumar, Ajay. 2013. ‘A Study on MPLADS—Member of Parliament Local Area Development Scheme’. Available at http://www.countercurrents.org/ajaykumar141113.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Kumar, Mohinder. 2010. ‘On the So-Called Fund Misutilisation under MP-LADS’. Economic and Political Weekly 45 (25): 102–4. Kumar, Meira. 2013. ‘Address Delivered at the Inaugural Function of the Seventh Meeting of Women Speakers of Parliament on Gender-Sensitive Parliaments in the Central Hall of Parliament House on 3 October 2012’. The Journal of Parliamentary Information 59 (1): 1. Kumar, Narendra. 2001. ‘Policy Formulation in Parliament for Dalits: Analysis of Lok Sabha Debates and Questions during 1985–95’. PhD thesis, Jawarharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Kumar, Payal. 2015. Unveiling Women’s Leadership: Identity and Meaning of Leadership in India. New Delhi: Palgrave Macmillan. Kumar, Radha. 1993. The History of Doing: An Illustrated Account of Movements for Women’s Rights and Feminism in India 1800–1990. New Delhi: Kali for Women.

370

Bibliography

Kumar, Radha. 1995. ‘From Chipko to Sati: The Contemporary Indian Women’s Movement’. In The Challenge of Local Feminism: Women’s Movements in Global Perspective edited by Amrita Basu. Oxford: Westview Press. Kumar, Vikas. 2014. ‘Checking the Influence of Money in Indian Elections’. East Asia Forum, 26 April. Available at http://www.eastasiaforum. org/2014/04/26/checking-the-influence-of-money-in-indian-elections/, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Kumari, Ranjana. 2011. Reign She Will: Women’s Strife for Political Space. New Delhi: Har Anand Publications. Kumari, Ranjana and Anju Dubey. 1994. Women Parliamentarians: A Study in the Indian Context. New Delhi: Har-Anand Publications. Kwesiga, J. C. 2003. ‘The National Machinery for Gender Equality in Uganda: Institutionalised Gesture Politics’. In Mainstreaming Gender, Democratizing the State? Institutional Mechanisms for the Advancement of Women edited by S. M. Rai. Manchester/New York: Manchester University Press. Kymlicka, W. 1995a. Multicultural Citizenship: A Liberal Theory of Minority Rights. Oxford: Oxford University Press. ———. (ed). 1995b. The Rights of Minority Cultures. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Lall, Niharika. 2016. ‘Parliament’s Filmi Report Card’. Times of India, 5 August. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/delhi/Parliamentsfilmi-report-card/articleshow/53557139.cms, last accessed on 25 April 2018. LARRDIS. 2000. ‘Members of the Twelfth Lok Sabha: A Socio-Economic Study’. Journal of Parliamentary Information (March). ———. 2014. ‘Members of the Sixteenth Lok Sabha: A Study’. Journal of Parliamentary Information 60 (3): 357–77. Available at http://164.100.47. 194/loksabha/CommonJournalParliament.aspx?fmane=JPI_september 2014.pdf, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Lawler, E. 1988. ‘Pay for Performance: Making It Work’. Personnel 65 (10): 68–71. Lawyers Collective. 2012. ‘From Campaigning to Monitoring: Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005’. Available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLtOsYN8HS8, last accessed on 10 May 2018. LeVeness, Frank P. and Jane P. Sweeney. 1987. Women Leaders in Contemporary US Politics. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner. Liddle, Joanna and E. Michielsens. 2007. ‘NQOC: Social Identity and Representation in British Politics’. The British Journal of Politics and International Relations 9 (4): 670–95. Liddle, Joanna and Shirin M. Rai. 1998. ‘Feminism, Imperialism and Orientalism: The Challenge of the “Indian Woman”’. Women’s History Review 7 (4): 495–520. Lilleker, D. and K. Koc-Michalska. 2013. ‘Online Political Communication Strategies: MEPs E-representation and Self-Representation’. Journal of Information Technology and Politics 10 (2): 190–207.

Bibliography 371

LiveMint. 2014. ‘Kumar Vishwas Slams Irani, BJP Candidate Hits Back’. 1  April. Available at https://www.livemint.com/Politics/PIhgd2ItHu7H6 YhwN8QmRK/Kumar-Vishwas-slams-Smriti-Irani-BJP-candidate-hitsback.html, last accessed on 18 April. Lok Sabha. n.d. All Members of Lok Sabha (Since 1952): Members’ Biographical Sketches. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Members/lokprev. aspx, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. n.d. Audiovisual Recording of the Lok Sabha Debate on the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill, 23–4 August 2005. Copy on file with the author. ———. 1992. Parliament of India: The Ninth Lok Sabha 1989–1991: A Study. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005a. Official Report of the Proceedings of the House–Lok Sabha Debates, 14th Lok Sabha, session 5, cols 402–28. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005b. Official Report of the Proceedings of the House–Lok Sabha Debates, 14th Lok Sabha, Session 5, cols 478–548. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005c. Official Report of the Proceedings of the House–Lok Sabha Debates, 14th Lok Sabha, Session 5, cols 509–10. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005d. Resume of Work Done by Lok Sabha, 14th Lok Sabha, Session 5. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. Available at http://164.100.24.208/ls/ row/resume1405.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2005e. Standing Committee on Rural Development (14th Lok Sabha): Thirteenth Report: The National Rural Employment Guarantee Bill, 2004, Presented on 21 June 2005. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat ———. 2005f. Who’s Who: Parliament of India (14th Lok Sabha). New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2006. The Committee to Inquire into Misconduct of Members of Lok Sabha’s Second Report on ‘Various Facts of Misconduct and Basic Attributes of Stands of Conduct/Behaviour Expected of Members’ (14th Lok Sabha). New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2008a. Official Report of the Proceedings of the House–Lok Sabha Debates, 14th Lok Sabha, Special Session, 21 July 2008. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2008b. Official Report of the Proceedings of the House–Lok Sabha Debates, 14th Lok Sabha, Special Session, 22 July 2008. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2008c. Report of the Committee to Inquire into the Complaint Made by Some Members Regarding Alleged Offer of Money to Them in Connection with Voting on the Motion of Confidence (14th Lok Sabha). New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. Available at http://164.100.47.132/LssNew/Committees/ R-I-INQUIRE-ENG.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018.

372

Bibliography

Lok Sabha. 2013. Standing Committee on Food, Consumer Affairs and Public Distribution: Twenty Seventh Report on National Food Security Bill 2011. ———. 2014. Resume of Work Done by Lok Sabha, 15th Lok Sabha, 15th Session, 2013–14 (Part I and II). New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. Lombardo, Emanuela and Petra Meier (eds). 2014. The Symbolic Representation of Gender: A Discursive Approach. London: Routledge. Lorde, Audre. 2007. ‘Learning from the 60s’. In Sister Outsider: Essays & Speeches, 134–44. Berkeley, CA: Crossing Press. ———. 2018. ‘The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House’. London: Penguin. Lovenduski, J. 2005. Feminizing Politics. Cambridge: Polity Press. ———. 2014. ‘Prime Minister’s Questions as Political Ritual at Westminster’. In Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament, edited by Shirin M. Rai and R. E. Johnson. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Lovenduski, J. and P. Norris. 1989. ‘Women Candidates for Parliament: Transforming the Agenda?’ British Journal of Political Science 19 (1): 106–15. ———. 2003. ‘Westminster Women: The Politics of Presence’. Political Studies 51 (1): 84–102. Lowndes, Vivian and Mark Roberts. 2013. Why Institutions Matter: The New Institutionalism in Political Science. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. LS Debates. 1996. 11th Lok Sabha Debates. 24 May 1996. Available at https:// parliamentofindia.nic.in/ls/lsdeb/ls11/ses1/03240596.htm. ———. 1996. ‘Resolution Re: International Women’s Day’. 10th Lok Sabha, 8 March, cols. 197–205. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 1999. ‘Raised the Issue of Passing the 84th Constitutional Amendment Bill on Women’s Reservation on the Occasion of International Women’s Day’. 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/ Result_Archive.aspx?dbsl=1201621, last accessed on 26 April 2018. ———. 2002. ‘Regarding International Women’s Day’. 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result_Archive.aspx?dbsl= 1303616, last accessed on 24 April 2018. ———. 2003a. ‘Regarding Atrocities on Dalits’. 12 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result_Archive.aspx?dbsl= 1305530, last accessed 24 on April 2018. ———. 2003b. ‘Regarding International Women’s Day’. 7 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result_Archive. aspx?dbsl=1305508, last accessed on 24 April 2018. ———. 2005a. ‘National Rural Employment Guarantee Bill’. 14th Lok Sabha, 5th Session, 18 August, cols 337–430; 22 August, cols 531–721; 23 August, cols 331–68. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005b. ‘Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill 2005’. 14th Lok Sabha, 5th Session, 22 August, cols 509–10; 23 August, cols 402–28; 24 August, cols 478–548. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat.

Bibliography 373

LS Debates. 2001. Private Members Resolutions: Resolution Regarding Proper Utilization of Funds for Welfare of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, 2 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result_ Archive.aspx?dbsl=1302083, last accessed on 29 May 2018. ———. 2007a. ‘Reference Regarding Observation of International Women’s Day’. 14th Lok Sabha, 10th Session, 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/result14.aspx?dbsl=7360, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2007b. ‘Submission by Members Regarding International Women’s Day’. 14th Lok Sabha, 10th Session, 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/result14.aspx?dbsl=7361, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008. ‘Motion of Confidence in the Council of Ministers’. 14th Lok Sabha, 14th Session, 21–2 July. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2010a. ‘Discussion Regarding Situation Arising Out of Increasing Atrocities against Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes in the Country (Not Concluded)’. 15th Lok Sabha, 5th Session, 19 August. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result15.aspx?dbsl=3357, last accessed on 24 April 2018. ———. 2010b. ‘Reference Regarding International Women’s Day’. 15th Lok Sabha, 4th Session, 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/ Debates/Result15.aspx?dbsl=1634, last accessed on 24 April 2018. ———. 2013a. ‘Statutory Resolution Re: Disapproval of Criminal Law (Amendment) Ordinance, 2013 and Criminal Law (Amendment) Bill, 2013’. 15th Lok Sabha, 13th Session, 19 March, cols 552–708. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2013b. ‘Submission by Members: Regarding International Women’s Day’. 15th Lok Sabha, 13th Session, 8 March. Available at http://164.100.47.194/Loksabha/Debates/Result15.aspx?dbsl=9141, last accessed on 24 April 2018. Lukes, S. 1975. ‘Political Rituals and Social Integration’. Sociology 9 (2): 289–308. Mackay, Fiona. 2008. ‘“Thick” Conceptions of Substantive Representation: Women, Gender and Political Institutions’. Representation 44 (2): 125–39. Mackay, Fiona, Meryl Kenny, and Louise Chappell. 2010. ‘New Institutionalism Through a Gender Lens: Towards a Feminist Institutionalism?’ International Political Science Review 31 (5): 573–88. Mackay, F. and M. L. Krook (eds). 2011. Gender, Politics and Institutions: Towards a Feminist Institutionalism. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Madhok, Sumi. 2013. Rethinking Agency. London: Routledge. Madhok, Sumi and Shirin M. Rai. 2012. ‘Agency, Injury, and Transgressive Politics in Neoliberal Times’. Signs 37 (3): 645–69. Mahajan, S. 2015. ‘Development: Innovating for Financing for Gender Equality’. IPU’s Tenth Meeting of Women Speakers of Parliament. New

374

Bibliography

York: UN Headquarters. Available at http://speakerloksabha.nic.in/speech/ SpeechDetails.asp?SpeechId=504, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mahajan, S. 2016a. ‘Addresses at the National Conference of Women Legislators Held in New Delhi’. The Journal of Parliamentary Information 62 (2): 222–42. ———. 2016b. ‘National Conference of Women Legislators’. Conference Held in New Delhi. Majumdar, Swapna. 2014. ‘India Politics So Dangerous to Women They Keep Out’. WeNews (Women’s E-news), 16 May. Available at http://womensenews. org/story/the-world/140515/india-politics-so-dangerous-women-theykeep-out, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Makhunga, L. D. 2014. ‘South African Parliament and Blurred Lines: The ANC Women’s League and the African National Congress’ Gendered Political Narrative’. Agenda 28 (2): 33–47. Malik, D. and R. Kumar. 2012. ‘Indian Parliament at 60 Years: Facts & Statistics’. PRS Legislative Research, 14 May. Available at http://ibnlive.in.com/news/ indian-parliament-at-60-years-facts--statistics/257794-3.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mander, H. 2009. Fear and Forgiveness: The Aftermath of Massacre. New Delhi: Penguin Books. Manow, P. 2010. In the King’s Shadow, The Political Anatomy of Democratic Representation. Cambridge: Polity. Mansbridge, Jane. 2009. ‘Should Blacks Represent Blacks and Women Represent Women? A Contingent “Yes”’. The Journal of Politics 61 (3): 628–57. Mansbridge, Jane and Shauna L. Shames. 2008. ‘Toward a Theory of Backlash: Dynamic Resistance and the Central Role of Power’. Politics & Gender 44 (4): 623–34. Mason, R. 2017. ‘PM Orders Inquiry into Intimidation of MPs during General Election’. The Guardian, 12 July. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/ politics/2017/jul/12/pm-orders-inquiry-into-intimidation-experienced-bymps-during-election, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mathur, A. 2008. ‘Muzaffarnagar MP Dies in Accident’. Indian Express, 11 December. Available at http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/muzaffarnagar-mp-dies-in-car-accident/397027/, last accessed on 11 May 2018 Mathur, S. 2015. ‘PM, Many MPs Haven’t Spent a Rupee from MPLAD Fund’. Times of India, 1 February. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ india/PM-many-MPs-havent-spent-a-rupee-from-MPLAD-fund/articleshow/46084622.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mattes, R. B. 2002. ‘South Africa: Democracy without the People?’ Journal of Democracy 13 (1): 22–36. Mavin, S., P. Bryans, and R. Cunningham. 2010. ‘Fed-Up with Blair’s Babes, Gordon’s Gals, Cameron’s Cuties, Nick Nymphets: Challenging Gendered Media Representations of Women Political Leaders’. Gender in Management: An International Journal 25 (7): 550–69.

Bibliography 375

McLean, Iain. 1996. Oxford Concise Dictionary of Politics. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Meintjes, S. 2003. ‘The Politics of Engagement: Women Transforming the Policy Process—Domestic Violence Legislation in South Africa’. In No Shortcuts to Power: African Women in Politics and Policy Making edited by A. M. Goetz and S. Hassim. London: Zed Books. Menon, N. 2000. ‘Elusive “Woman”: Feminism and Women’s Reservation Bill’. Economic and Political Weekly 35 (43/44): 3835–44. ———. 2004. Recovering Subversion: Feminist Politics beyond the Law. Ranikhet: Permanent Black. Metcalf, T. R. 1989. An Imperial Vision: Indian Architecture and Britain’s Raj. Berkeley: University of California Press. Mishra, S. 2015. ‘Vocal RaGa, Revival Saga’. The Week, 17 May. Available at http://www.theweek.in/theweek/current/Rahul-Gandhi.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018 Mishra, V. 2009. ‘Women of the House’. Indian Express, 30 June. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/news-archive/web/women-of-the-house/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mitter, Partha. 2007. The Triumph of Modernism: India’s Artists and the Avantgarde, 1922–1947. London: Reaktion Books Ltd. Mitra, Subrata Kumar and V. B. Singh. 1999. ‘Democracy and Social Change in India: A Cross-Sectional Analysis of the National Electorate’. Pacific Affairs 74 (1). DOI: 10.2307/2672506. Modi, N. 2016. ‘Valedictory Address of the Prime Minister of India, Shri Narendra Modi’. Journal of Parliamentary Information 62 (2). Available at http://164.100.47.194/loksabha/CommonJournalParliament.aspx?fmane= JPI_June_2016.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Mohanty, Siba Sankar. 2004. ‘Rhetoric and Reality of MPLADS’. Centre for Budget and Governance Accountability. Available at http://www. cbgaindia.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Rhetoric-and-Reality-ofMPLADS.pdf, last accessed on 6 August 2018. Molyneux, M. 1985. ‘Mobilization without Emancipation? Women’s Interests, the State and Revolution in Nicaragua’. Feminist Studies 11 (2): 227–54. Moore, S. F. and B. G. Myerhoff. 1977. ‘Introduction: Secular Ritual: Forms and Meanings’. In Secular Ritual edited by S. F. Moore and B. G. Myerhoff, 3–24. Amsterdam: Van Gorcum. Morris-Jones, W. H. 1974. The Government and Politics of India. New Delhi: B.I. Publications. Mughan, A., J. Box-Steffenschmeier, and R. Scully. 1997. ‘Mapping Legislative Socialisation’. European Journal of Political Research 32: 93–106. Mukherjee, G. 1992. ‘Memoirs of a Chairperson’. 9th Lok Sabha 1989–91. New Delhi: Lok Sabha Secretariat.

376

Bibliography

Mustafa, S. 2017. Azadi’s Daughter: Being a Secular Muslim in India: A Memoir. New Delhi: Speaking Tiger Publication. Nair, J. 1994. ‘On the Question of Agency in Indian Feminist Historiography’. Gender & History 6 (1): 82–100. Nanda, B. R. (ed). 1990. Indian Women from Purdah to Modernity. Bombay: B.I. Publications. Nanda, Reena. 2002. Kamaladevi Chattopahdhyaya. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Naqvi, S. 2015. ‘Smriti, a Fading Memory?’ Outlook, 20 April. Available at http://www.outlookindia.com/article/smriti-a-fading-memory/293990, last accessed on 11 May 2018. National Election Watch. 2014. Association for Democratic Reforms: Analysis of Criminal Background, Financial, Education, Gender and Other Details of Winner (New Delhi). Available at https://adrindia.org/research-and-report/ election-watch/lok-sabha/2014/lok-sabha-2014-winners-analysis-criminaland-finan, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Nayak, Radhika, N.C. Saxena, and John Farrington. 2002. ‘Reaching the Poor: The Influence of Policy and Administrative Processes on the Implementation of Government Poverty Schemes in India’. Working Paper 175. London: Overseas Development Institute. Available at https://www.odi.org/sites/odi. org.uk/files/odi-assets/publications-opinion-files/2700.pdf, last accessed on 26 October 2017. Nayar, K. 2012. Beyond the Lines: An Autobiography. New Delhi: Lotus Collection, Roli Books. NDTV. 2009. ‘Battleground Assam’. NDTV Blog, Heart of the Matter. Available at http://www.ndtv.com/news/blogs/heart_of_the_matter/battleground_assam.php, last accessed on 16 August 2017 [no longer available online, copy on file with the author]. ———. 2016. ‘Scene Stealer: On Women’s Day, Ranjeet Ranjan Rides Harley to Parliament’. NDTV, 8 March. Available at http://www.ndtv.com/ india-news/congress-lawmaker-ranjeet-ranjan-rides-into-parliament-on-aharley-1284955, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Nehru, Jawaharlal. 1999. Glimpses of World History, 15th ed. New Delhi: Penguin Books India. New Indian Express. 2015. ‘I Regret, I Respect Her, Says Sharad Days after His Remarks on Irani’. 18 March. Available at http://www.newindianexpress.com/nation/I-Regret-I-Respect-Her-Says-Sharad-Days-After-HisRemarks-on-Irani/2015/03/18/article2719477.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Norris, P. 2006. ‘The Impact of Electoral Reform on Women’s Representation’. Acta Politica 41 (3): 197–213. Norris, P. and J. Lovenduski. 1995. Political Recruitment. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Bibliography 377

Norval, A. J. 2000. ‘The Things We Do with Words—Contemporary Approaches to the Analysis of Ideology’. British Journal of Political Science 30: 313–46. Nussbaum, M., Amrita Basu, Yasmin Tambiah, and Niraja Gopal Jayal. 2003. Essays on Gender and Governance. Human Development Resource Centre: United Nations Development Programme. Available at http://www.undp. org/content/dam/india/docs/essays_on_gender_and_governance.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Ostrom, Elinor. 2009. ‘Beyond Markets and States: Polycentric Governance of Complex Economic Systems’. Available at https://www.nobelprize.org/ nobel_prizes/economic-sciences/laureates/2009/ostrom-lecture-slides.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Outlook. 2012. ‘10 Sexist Remarks by Indian Politicians’. Outlook India, 27 December. Available at https://www.outlookindia.com/website/story/10sexist-remarks-by-indian-politicians/283451, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2016. ‘The Twitter Revolution’. Available at https://www.outlookindia.com/magazine/story/the-twitter-revolution/297958, last accessed on 24 April 2018. Pai, S. 2011. ‘Legislative Institutions in India: Assessment and Future Direction’. Conference Held in New Delhi. Pai, S. and A. Kumar (eds). 2014. The Indian Parliament: A Critical Appraisal. Hyderabad: Orient BlackSwan. Palshikar, S. and Yogendra Yadav. 2014. Party Competition in Indian States: Electoral Congress in Post-Congress Polity. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Pandian, M. S. S. 1992. The Image Trap: M G Ramachandran in Film and Politics. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Pant, H. V. 2011. The US–India Nuclear Pact: Policy, Process and Great Power Politics. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Parkinson, John. 2012. Democracy and Public Space: The Physical Sites of Democratic Performance. Oxford: Oxford University Press. ———. 2015. ‘Performing Democracy: Roles, Stages, Scripts’. In The Grammar of Politics and Performance edited by S. M. Rai and J. Reinelt. Abingdon: Routledge. Patel, A. K. and M. Das (eds). 2014. ‘For Kirron and Anupam Kher, Eggs and Black Flags from BJP Workers’. NDTV, 18 March. Available at http://www. ndtv.com/elections-news/for-kirron-and-anupam-kher-eggs-and-blackflags-from-bjp-workers-554285, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Patil, G. S. 2015. ‘Rs 0: Spent By 55% Lok Sabha MPs on Constituencies’. IndiaSpend, 26 May. Available at http://www.indiaspend.com/cover-story/ rs-0-spent-by-55-lok-sabha-mps-on-constituencies-57869, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Peters, B. G. 2005. Institutional Theory in Political Science: The ‘New Institutionalism’ (2nd edition). London: Continuum.

378

Bibliography

Phillips, A. 1995. The Politics of Presence: The Political Representation of Gender, Ethnicity, and Race. Oxford: Oxford University Press. ———. 1998. ‘Democracy and Representation—Why Should It Matter Who Our Representatives Are?’ In Feminism and Politics edited by A. Phillips. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pierson, P. 2004. Politics in Time. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. ———. 2015. ‘Power and Path Dependence’. In Advances in ComparativeHistorical Analysis edited by James Mahoney and Kathleen Thelen. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Piscopo, J. M. 2011. ‘Rethinking Descriptive Representation: Rendering Women in Legislative Debates’. Parliamentary Affairs 11 (3): 448–72. Pitkin, H. F. 1967. The Concept of Representation. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Plummer, K. 2015. ‘Narrative Power, Sexual Stories and the Politics of Story Telling’. In The International Handbook of Life History and Narratives edited by I. Goodson and M. Andrews. London: Routledge. Pradhan, S. 2006. ‘I Take Money for Party Tickets: Mayawati’. Rediff India Abroad, 5 June. Available at http://www.rediff.com/news/2006/jun/05maya. htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Pringle, R. and S. Watson. 1992. ‘“Women’s Interests” and the Post-Structuralist State’. In Destabilising Theory: Contemporary Feminist Debates edited by M. Barrett and A. Phillips. Cambridge: Polity Press. PRS Legislative Research. n.d. MP Track–16th Lok Sabha. Available at http:// www.prsindia.org/mptrack/16loksabha/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Prügl, E. 2012. ‘“If Lehman Brothers Had Been Lehman Sisters…”: Gender and Myth in the Aftermath of the Financial Crisis’. International Political Sociology 6 (1): 21–35. Puri, A. 2009. ‘Lok Sabha: Your MP… Mrs MLA’. Outlook, 8 June. Available at http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?240649, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Puwar, N. 2004. Space Invaders: Gender, Race and Bodies Out of Place. London: Berg Publishers. ———. 2010. ‘The Archi-texture of Parliament: Flaneur as Method in Westminster’. Journal of Legislative Studies 16 (3): 298–312. Quartz. 2014. ‘These Charts Answer an Age-Old Question—Can Money Win You Elections in India?’ Available at https://qz.com/277181/these-chartsanswer-an-age-old-question-can-money-win-you-elections-in-india/, last accessed on 30 May 2018. Rahman, T. 2008. Parliamentary Control and Government Accountability in South Asia. London: Routledge. Rai, Shirin M. 1997. ‘Women in the Indian Parliament’. In Getting Institutions Right for Women in Development edited by A. M. Goetz. London: Zed Press.

Bibliography 379

Rai, Shirin M. 2003. ‘The National Commission for Women: The Indian Experience’. In Mainstreaming Gender, Democratizing the State? edited by Shirin M. Rai. Manchester: Manchester University Press/United Nations. ———. 2007. ‘Deliberative Democracy and the Politics of Redistribution: The Case of the Indian Panchayats’. Hypatia: Journal of Feminist Philosophy 22 (4): 64–80. ———. 2010. ‘Analysing Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament’. Journal of Legislative Studies 16 (3): 284–97. ———. 2012. ‘Political Performance: Reading Parliamentary Politics’. Warwick Performance and Politics Network Working Paper Series 1 (1). Available at http://www2.warwick.ac.uk/fac/cross_fac/wppn/publications/workingpapers/vol_1_issue_1_shirin_rai.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2013. ‘Disruptive Democracy: Analysing Legislative Protest’. Democratization 20 (3): 385–91. ———. 2014a. ‘Political Aesthetics of the Nation: Murals and Statues in the Indian Parliament’. Interventions: International Journal of Postcolonial Studies 16 (6): 898–915. ———. 2014b. ‘Political Performance: A Framework for Analysing Democratic Politics’. Political Studies 63 (5): 1179–97. ———. 2014c. ‘Representing Democracy: Ceremony and Ritual in the Indian Parliament’. In Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament edited by Shirin M. Rai and R. E. Johnson. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. ———. 2017a. ‘The Dilemmas of Performative Citizenship’. In Gendered Citizenship: Manifestations and Performance edited by Bishnupriya Dutt, Janelle Reinelt, and Shrinkhla Sahai. Basingstoke: Palgrave MacMillan. ———. 2017b. ‘Performance and Politics: An Approach to Symbolic Representation’. Politics, Groups, and Identities 5 (3): 506–11. Rai, Shirin. M., Farzana Bari, Nazmunnessa Mahtab, and Bidyut Mohanty. 2006. ‘Gender Quotas and the Politics of Empowerment: A Comparative Study’. In Quotas for Women Worldwide edited by Drude Dahlerup. London: Routledge. Rai, Shirin. M. and R. E. Johnson (eds). 2014. Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Rai, Shirin. M. and J. Reinelt. 2015. The Grammar of Politics and Performance. London: Routledge. Rai, Shirin. M. and K. Sharma. 2000. ‘Democratising the Indian Parliament and the “Reservation for Women” Debate’. In International Perspectives on Gender and Democratisation edited by Shirin M. Rai. London: Macmillan Palgrave. Rajalakshmi, T. J. 2005. ‘A Law for the Domestic Domain’. Frontline 22 (16). Available at http://www.frontline.in/static/html/fl2216/stories/20050812002209100.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Rajinder, N. 2014. ‘Kirron Kher Is BJP Nominee: Party Has Tough Task Cut Out for the Actor; to Face Divided Unit in City’. The Tribune, 16 March.

380

Bibliography

Available at http://www.tribuneindia.com/2014/20140316/cth1.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Rajya Sabha. 2002. Department-Related Parliamentary Standing Committee on Human Resource Development: Hundred Twenty-Fourth Report on the Protection from Domestic Violence Bill. Available at http://164.100.47.5/ newcommittee/reports/EnglishCommittees/Committee%20on%20HRD/ Report124th.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2005. Government Legislative Business—Resume of the Business Transacted by the Rajya Sabha, 205th Session. Available at http://rajyasabha. nic.in/rsnew/resume/205/govtlegbus.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008. ‘Reservation of Seats for Women in Legislative Bodies: Perspectives’. Occasional Paper 1/2008, July. New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2009. Department-Related Parliamentary Standing Committee on Personnel, Public Grievances, Law and Justice: Thirty Sixth Report on the Constitution (One Hundred and Eighth Amendment) Bill. ———. 2013. Rajya Sabha Parliamentary Bulletin Part II, No. 51296, 21 October 2013, New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2014a. Rajya Sabha Parliamentary Bulletin Part II, No. 51863, 30 April. New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2014b. Rajya Sabha Statistical Information 1952–2013, New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. Rajya Sabha Secretariat. 2003. Women Members, Rajya Sabha. New Delhi: Secretary-General, Rajya Sabha. Available at http://rajyasabha.nic.in/ rsnew/publication_electronic/Women_Members_Rajya%20Sabha.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Raka, R. 2000. ‘Fields of Protest: Women’s Movements in India’. Contemporary Sociology 29 (5): 742–3. Raman, A. 2010. ‘A Veil Lifted’. Outlook, 29 March. Available at http://mcomments.outlookindia.com/story.aspx?sid=4&aid=264746, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Raman, V. 2002. ‘The Implementation of Quotas for Women: The Indian Experience’. Paper prepared for workshop hosted by International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (IDEA), Jakarta, Indonesia, 25 September. Available at http://www.quotaproject.org/CS/CS_India.pdf, last accessed on 19 September 2011. Rao, B. 2015. ‘In Bihar’s Political Realignment, Women Suffer’. India Spend, 4 November. Available at http://www.indiaspend.com/bihar-votes-for-itsand-indias-future/in-bihars-political-realignment-women-suffer-88292, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Ravichandran, P. 2016. ‘The Women Who Helped Draft Our Constitution’. Livemint, 13 March. Available at http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/ dLi6ZIdW6CgswZCGdOA9VM/The-women-who-helped-draft-ourconstitution.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018.

Bibliography 381

Ray, R. 1999. Fields of Protest: Women’s Movements in India. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. Raychaudhuri, Tapan. 1999. Perceptions, Emotions, Sensibilities: Essays on India’s Colonial and Post-Colonial Experiences. New Delhi: Oxford University Press Reddy, S. 2010. ‘Madam Pompadour’s Chessboard’. Outlook India, 18 January. Available at https://www.outlookindia.com/magazine/story/madam-pompadours-chessboard/263690, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Reddy, S. M. 1930. My Experience as a Legislator. Madras: The Current Thought Press. Rediff. 2005. ‘I Can Never Be Sunil Dutt’. Available at http://www.rediff.com/ news/2005/nov/28slide2.htm, last accessed on 18 April 2018. Reingold, B. 2006. ‘Women as Office Holders: Linking Descriptive and Substantive Representation’. Political Women and American Democracy Conference (University of Notre Dame). Available at http://americandemocracy.nd.edu/assets/11302/reingold_conference.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Rhee, K. S., T. H. Sigler. 2015. ‘Untangling the Relationship between Gender and Leadership’. Gender in Management: An International Journal 30 (2): 109–34. Richter, Linda K. 1991. ‘Explaining Theories of Female Leadership in South and South East Asia’. Pacific Affairs 63 (4): 524–40. Ridgeway, Cecilia L. 2001. ‘Gender, Status, and Leadership’. Journal of Social Issues 57 (4): 637–55. Ridley, J. 1998. ‘Edwin Lutyens, New Delhi, and the Architecture of Imperialism’. Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History 26 (2): 67–83. ———. 2002. Edwin Lutyens: His Life, His Wife, His Work. London: Pimlico. Rodrigues, V. 2014. ‘Can the DRSCs Step into the Institutional Void of India’s Parliamentary Democracy?’ In The Indian Parliament: A Critical Appraisal edited by S. Pai and A. Kumar. New Delhi: Orient BlackSwan. Rose, G. 2012. Visual Methodologies. London: Sage Publications. Rosenblatt, G. 2007. ‘From One of Us to One of Them: The Socialisation of New MPs’. Parliamentary Affairs 60 (3): 510–17. Rourke, A. 2012. ‘Julia Gillard’s Attack on Sexism Hailed as Turning Point for Australian Women’. The Guardian, 12 October. Available at https:// www.theguardian.com/world/2012/oct/12/julia-gillard-sexism-australianwomen, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Roy, Srila. 2012. New South Asian Feminisms. London: Zed Books. RS Debates. 2001. Rajya Sabha Debates, 6th August 2001, 295–300. New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005a. ‘The National Rural Employment Guarantee Bill’, 24 August, 233–357. New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat. ———. 2005b. ‘The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Bill 2005’, 29 August, 39–42. New Delhi: Rajya Sabha Secretariat.

382

Bibliography

Rueschemeyer, Dietrich, Evelyne Huber Stephens, and John D. Stephens. 1992. Capitalist Development and Democracy. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Rule, W. 1987. ‘Electoral Systems, Contextual Factors, and Women’s Opportunity for Election to Parliament in Twenty-Three Democracies’. The Western Political Quarterly 40 (3): 477–98. Saalfeld, T. and W. C. Müller. 1997. ‘Roles in Legislative Studies: A Theoretical Introduction’. The Journal of Legislative Studies 3 (1): 1–16. Safi, M. 2016. ‘India’s Ruling Party Ordered Online Abuse of Opponents, Claims Book’. The Guardian, 27 December. Available at https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/dec/27/india-bjp-party-ordering-online-abuseopponents-actors-modi-claims-book, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sahgal, P. 2009. ‘Power from the Son’. India Today, 3 April. Available at http:// indiatoday.intoday.in/story/Power+from+the+son/1/35069.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Saint-Germain, Michelle. 1989. ‘Does Their Difference Make a Difference? The Impact of Women on Public Policy in Arizona Legislature’. Social Science Quarterly 70 (4): 956–68. Samita, S. 2000. ‘Toward a Feminist Politics? The Indian Women’s Movement in Historical Perspective’. Gender and Development Working Paper Series No. 9. Washington, D.C.: World Bank. Sandberg, S. 2013. Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead. London: WH Allen. Sangari, Kumkum and Sudesh Vaid (eds). 1989. Recasting Women: Essays in Colonial History. New Delhi: Kali for Women in India Sapiro, V. 1981. ‘Research Frontier Essay: When Are Interests Interesting? The Problem of Political Representation of Women’. The American Political Science Review 75 (3): 701–16. Sardesai, R. 2014. 2014: The Election That Changed India. Gurgaon: Viking/ Penguin. Sarkar, Sumit. 1983. Modern India, 1885–1947. New Delhi: Macmillan. Sarkar, T. and B. Urvashi. 1995. Embodying the Nation: Gender, Violence and Memory during the Partition of British India in 1947. London: Zed Books. Saward, M. 2006. ‘The Representative Claim’. Contemporary Political Theory 5 (3): 297–318. ———. 2010. The Representative Claim. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sawer, M. and A. Turner. 2016. ‘Specialised Parliamentary Bodies: Their Role and Relevance to the Women’s Movement Repertoire’. Parliamentary Affairs 69 (4): 763–77. Sawer, M. and L. Friedenvall. 2013. ‘Playing Their Part? Parliamentary Institutions and Gender Mainstreaming’. The 3rd European Conference on Politics and Gender (Barcelona). Schechner, R. 1985. ‘Restoration of Behaviour’. In Between Theatre and Anthropology edited by R. Schechner. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Bibliography 383

Schmidt, Vivien. 2008. ‘Discursive Institutionalism’. Annual Review of Political Science 11: 303–26. Schumpeter, Joseph A. 1976. Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy. London: Routledge. Schwindt-Bayer, Leslie A. 2005. ‘The Incumbency Disadvantage and Women’s Election to Legislative Office’. Electoral Studies 24: 227–44. Sen, A. K. 1987. ‘Gender and Co-operative Conflicts’. WIDER Working Papers No. 18. Available at https://www.wider.unu.edu/publication/gender-andcooperative-conflicts, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sen, Ronojoy. 2015. ‘The Politics of Parliamentary Paralysis’. The Hindu, 21 August. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/the-politics-ofparliamentary-paralysis/article7562315.ece, last accessed on 26 October 2017. Sen, S. 2000. ‘Toward a Feminist Politics? The Indian Women’s Movement in Historical Perspective’. Policy Research Report on Gender and Development, Working Paper Series No. 9, World Bank. Seshapriyan, V. 2015. ‘If Millionaire Indian MPs Won’t Give Up Government Subsidies, Why Should I?’ Quartz India, 20 April. Available at https:// qz.com/386939/if-millionaire-indian-mps-wont-give-up-governmentsubsidies-why-should-i/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Shaikh, Z. 2014. ‘Only 22 Muslims in 16th Lok Sabha’. Indian Express, 17 May. Available at http://indianexpress.com/article/india/politics/only-22muslims-in-16th-lok-sabha/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Shankar, B. L. and V. Rodrigues. 2011. The Indian Parliament: A Democracy at Work. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Shankar, K. 2013. Pandora’s Daughters. New Delhi: Bloomsbury Publishing. Sharma, K. 2012. Changing the Terms of the Discourse: Gender, Equality and the Indian State. Noida/New Delhi: CWDS/Pearson. Shillong Times, The. 2012. ‘Nagaland Assembly Resolves to Exempt Women’. 23 September. Available at http://www.theshillongtimes.com/2012/09/23/ nagaland-assembly-resolves-to-exempt-women-reservation/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Shrivastava, R. 2014. ‘Smriti Irani vs Rahul Gandhi Fight Likely in BJP Strategy for Gandhi Strongholds’. NDTV, 28 March 2014. Available at http://www. ndtv.com/elections-news/smriti-irani-vs-rahul-gandhi-fight-likely-in-bjpstrategy-for-gandhi-strongholds-555384, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Siddiqui, P. I. 2014. ‘Husband “Abuses” SP Chief Mulayam Singh Yadav, Wife Loses Lok Sabha Ticket’. Times of India, 8 March. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/lucknow/Husband-abuses-SP-chief-MulayamSingh-Yadav-wife-loses-Lok-Sabha-ticket/articleshow/31628525.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sikata, B. 2007. ‘Chaste Like Sita, Fierce Like Durga’. In India’s 2004 Elections: Grass-Roots and National Perspectives edited by R. Ramashray and P. Wallace. New Delhi: Sage Publications.

384

Bibliography

Singer, W. 2007. ‘A Constituency Suitable for Ladies’: And Other Social Histories of Indian Elections. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Singh, Malvika and Rudrangshu Mukherjee. 2009. New Delhi: Making of a Capital. New Delhi: Lustre Press. Singh, S. S. 2016. ‘Gaming the System: The Real Reason Why Only 13% of MPs Ask 80% of Questions in the Rajya Sabha’. The Huffington Post, 16 March. Available at http://www.huffingtonpost.in/shivam-singh/is-parliaments-questions-_b_9458614.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sitapati, V. 2016. ‘Reservations’. In The Oxford Handbook of the Indian Constitution edited by S. Choudhry, M. Khosla, and P. B. Mehta. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sivakumar, B. 2015. ‘Tamil Nadu MPs Top Attendance Chart in Lok Sabha’. Times of India, 4 January. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes. com/india/Tamil-Nadu-MPs-top-attendance-chart-in-Lok-Sabha/articleshow/45747445.cms, last accessed on 25 April 2018. Sivaramakrishnan, K.C. 2010. ‘Constituting the Local: Asking Questions about MPLADS’. Available at https://indianexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/ constituting-the-local/, last accessed on 26 October 2017. Skjeie, H. 1991. ‘The Rhetoric of Difference: On Women’s Inclusion Into Political Elites’. Politics & Society 19 (2): 233–64. Skoda, U. 2004. ‘The Politics–Kinship Nexus in India: Sonia Gandhi versus Sushma Swaraj in the 1999 General Elections’. Journal of Contemporary South Asia 13 (3): 273–85. Sones, Boni with Margaret Moran and Joni Lovenduski. 2005. Women in Parliament: The New Suffragettes. London: Politicos. Sonne, Wolfgang. 2003. Representing the State: Capital City Planning in the Early Twentieth Century. Munich: Prestel. Spary, C. 2007. ‘Female Political Leadership in India’. Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 45 (3): 253–77. ———. 2008. ‘Mainstreaming Gender in Development Policy: A Comparative Analysis of Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh, India’. PhD Thesis, University of Bristol. ———. 2010. ‘Performing Ethno-Linguistic Representation: A Study of Indian Parliamentary Ceremony and Ritual’. Nationalism and Ethnic Politics 16 (3): 311–36. ———. 2013. ‘Legislative Protest as Disruptive Democratic Practice’. Democratization 20 (3): 392–416. ———. 2014a. ‘Plus Ca Change? Women Candidates and the 2014 Lok Sabha Elections’. Ballots and Bullets, 1 May. Available at http://nottspolitics. org/2014/05/01/plus-ca-change-women-candidates-and-the-2014-loksabha-elections/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2014b. ‘Women Candidates and Party Nomination Trends in India— Evidence from the 2009 General Election’. Commonwealth and Comparative Politics 52 (1): 109–38.

Bibliography 385

Spary, C. 2017. ‘The Lokmat Parliamentary Awards and the Manel That Judges Them’. Feminism in India, 20 July. Available at https://feminisminindia. com/2017/07/20/lokmat-parliamentary-awards-manel/, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sperling, Valerie, Myra Marx Ferree, and Barbara Risman. 2001. ‘Constructing Global Feminism: Transnational Advocacy Networks and Russian Women’s Activism’. Signs 26 (4): 1155–86. Spivak, Gayatri. 1988. ‘Can the Subaltern Speak?’ In Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture edited by Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg. Chicago: University of Illinois Press. Squire, C. 2008. ‘Experience-Centred and Culturally-Oriented Approaches to Narrative’. In Doing Narrative Research edited by M. Andrews, C. Squire, and M. Tamboukou. London: Sage Publications. Squires, J. 2008. ‘The Constitutive Representation of Gender: Extra-Parliamentary Re-Presentations of Gender Relations’. Representation 44 (2): 187–204. Squires J. and M. Wickham-Jones. 2001. ‘Women in Parliament: A Comparative Analysis’. Equal Opportunities Commission, 88–99. Sridharan, E. 2002. ‘The Fragmentation of the Indian Party System, 1952– 1999’. In Parties and Party Politics in India edited by Zoya Hasan. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Streeck, W. and K. Thelen. 2005. Beyond Continuity: Institutional Change in Advanced Political Economies. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Strøm, K. 1997. ‘Rules, Reasons and Routines: Legislative Roles in Parliamentary Democracies’. The Journal of Legislative Studies 3 (1): 155–74. Sudarshan, R. 2011. ‘India’s National Rural Employment Guarantee Act: Women’s Participation and Impacts in Himachal Pradesh, Kerala and Rajasthan’. Institute of Development Studies. Available at https://www. ids.ac.uk/publication/india-s-national-rural-employment-guarantee-actwomen-s-participation-and-impacts-in-himachal-pradesh-kerala-and-rajasthan, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Sukumar, C. R. 2014. ‘Daggubati Purandeswari: Victim of Internal BJP and Family Politics’. Economic Times, 19 April. Available at http://articles.economictimes.indiatimes.com/2014-04-19/news/49252111_1_tdp-saffronparty-bjp, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Suneetha, A. and V. Nagaraj. 2010. ‘Dealing with Domestic Violence towards Complicating the Rights Discourse’. Indian Journal of Gender Studies 17 (3): 451–78. Supreme Court of India. 1997. Guidelines and Norms Laid Down by the Hon’ble Supreme Court in Vishaka and Others vs. State of Rajasthan and Others. Available at http://www.iitg.ac.in/iitgicc/docs/Vishaka_Guidelines. pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2013. Lily Thomas vs Union Of India & Ors on 10 July. New Delhi. Available at https://indiankanoon.org/doc/63158859/, last accessed on 3 June 2018.

386

Bibliography

Swamy, A., S. Knack, Y. Lee, and O. Azfar. 2000. Gender and Corruption. Center for Development Economics, Williams College CDE Working Paper Series. Sydney Morning Herald, The. 2012. ‘Transcript of Julia Gillard’s Speech’. 10 October. Available at http://www.smh.com.au/federal-politics/politicalnews/transcript-of-julia-gillards-speech-20121009-27c36.html, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Tadros, M. 2010. ‘Quotas: Add Women and Stir?’ IDS Bulletin 41(5): 1–10. Tamerius, K. L. 1995. ‘Sex, Gender, and Leadership in the Representation of Women’. In Gender, Power, Leadership and Governance edited by D.L. Georgia and R. M. Kelly. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press. Telegraph, The. 2008. ‘Congress Mourns Loss of Leader Who Filled a Void’, The Telegraph, 11 July 2008. Available at http://www.telegraphindia. com/1080711/jsp/siliguri/story_9535076.jsp, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Teles, F. 2015. ‘The Distinctiveness of Democratic Political Leadership’. Political Studies Review 13 (1): 22–36. Thomas, S. 1994. How Women Legislate. New York: Oxford University Press. Tillin, L. 2015. ‘Indian Elections 2014: Explaining the Landslide’. Contemporary South Asia 23 (2): 117–22. Tilly, C. 2002. Stories, Identities, and Political Change. Maryland: Rowman & Littlefied Publishers Inc. Times of India, The. 2008. ‘BJP’s One-Vote Defeat in 1999 Was Narrowest in History’. 22 July. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ india/BJPs-one-vote-defeat-in-1999-was-narrowest-in-history/articleshow/3261721.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2009. ‘Azam Khan Circulating Cheap Posters of Mine: Jaya Prada’. 11 May. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Azam-Khancirculating-cheap-posters-of-mine-Jaya-Prada/articleshow/4508822.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2012a. ‘Assam Not a Filmi Issue: Sushilkumar Shinde Tells Jaya Bachchan in Rajya Sabha’. 9 August. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Assam-is-not-a-filmi-issue-Sushilkumar-Shinde-tells-JayaBachchan-in-Rajya-Sabha/articleshow/15418553.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2012b. ‘Jaya Bachchan Turns Emotional, Says “Parliament Has No Time for Women”’. 18 December. Available at http://articles.timesofindia. indiatimes.com/2012-12-18/india/35889780_1_medical-student-sidenear-mahipalpur-flyover-jaya-bachchan, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2012c. ‘Naga Women’s Stir for 33% Quota in Local Body Elections’. 2 October. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/guwahati/Naga-womens-stir-for-33-quota-in-local-body-elections/articleshow/16635786.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018.

Bibliography 387

Times of India, The. 2014a. ‘BJP to Flex Star Muscles to Attract Votes’. 25 March. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/news/BJP-to-flex-star-muscleto-attract-votes/articleshow/32622433.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2014b. ‘MPLAD Funds Will Spur Toilet Construction’. 23 August. Available at https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/MPLAD-funds-willspur-toilet-construction/articleshow/40728079.cms, last accessed on 2 May 2018. ———. 2015a. ‘Kanimozhi, Women Activists Lambast Sharad’s Sexist Slur’. 14 March. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/ KanimozhiwomenactivistslambastSharadssexistslur/articleshow/46560014. cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2015b. ‘Stubborn Sharad Yadav Taunts Smriti Irani in Rajya Sabha’. 17 March. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/StubbornSharad-Yadav-taunts-Smriti-Irani-in-Rajya-Sabha/articleshow/46590029. cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2017. ‘Ramya to Head AICC Social Media Division’. 11 May. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/entertainment/kannada/movies/ news/ramya-to-head-aicc-social-media-division/articleshow/58621507.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Tremblay, M. 1998. ‘Do Female MPs Substantively Represent Women? A Study of Legislative Behaviour in Canada’s 35th Parliament’. Canadian Journal of Political Science 31 (3): 435–65. Tribune, The. 2008a. ‘Advantage Mayawati’. 22 July. Available at http://www.tribuneindia.com/2008/20080722/edit.htm#1, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2008b. ‘Regional Tensions Echo in the House’. 22 July. Available at http://www.tribuneindia.com/2008/20080722/nation.htm#7, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Tribune News Service. 2006. ‘MPLADS Scam Rocks Parliament’. The Tribune, 21 December 2005. Available at http://www.tribuneindia. com/2005/20051221/main1.htm, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Tripathi, A. 2009. ‘Akhilesh Das’s Sexist Remarks Evoke EC Action’. The Times of India, 18 April. Available at http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ city/lucknow/Akhilesh-Dass-sexist-remarks-evoke-EC-action/articleshow/4416105.cms, last accessed on 11 May 2018. True, J. 2016. ‘The Global Financial Crisis’ Silver Bullet: Women Leaders and “Leaning In”’. In Scandalous Economics: Gender and the Politics of Financial Crises edited by A. A. Hozic and J. True. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Trust, S. 2009. ‘Marriage of Money and Politics’. Economic and Political Weekly 44 (45): 5–6. Tuli, A. 2016. ‘Twitter Can’t Get Over What Sushma Swaraj Wore While She Was Busy Doing Her Job’. Vagabomb, 18 April. Available at http://www. vagabomb.com/Get-Over-What-Sushma-Swaraj-Wore/, last accessed on 11 May 2018.

388

Bibliography

United Nations Development Programme (UNDP). 2005. Gender Equality: Striving for Justice in an Unequal World. Geneva: United Nations Research Institute For Social Development. UNDP Gender Inequality Index. 2017. Available at http://hdr.undp.org/en/ data, last accessed on 27 October 2017. Vaishnav, M. 2012. ‘The Merits of Money and “Muscle”: Essays on Criminality, Elections and Democracy in India’. PhD Thesis, Columbia University. Available at https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/27292541.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. ———. 2016. ‘Demonetization and India’s Money Politics’. Available at https://milanvaishnav.com/2016/11/30/demonetization-and-indias-moneypolitics/, last accessed on 30 May 2018. Varadarajan, S. 2008. ‘An Endgame with No Clear Winners Reality Check’. The Hindu, 22 July 2008. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todayspaper/tp-opinion/an-endgame-with-no-clear-winners-reality-check/ article1305001.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Varadarajan, Tunku. 2017. ‘India’s Best Loved Politician: Sushma Swaraj Wins Admirers by Helping Citizens Abroad’. Wall Street Journal, 24 July. Available at https://www.wsj.com/articles/indias-best-loved-politician-1500937541, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Varshney, Ashutosh. 2003. ‘Nationalism, Ethnic Conflict, and Rationality’. Perspectives on Politics 1 (1): 85–99. Vasanthi, R. 2002. ‘The Implementation of Quotas for Women: The Indian Experience’. International Institute for Democracy and Electoral Assistance (Jakarta). Available at http://www.quotaproject.org/CS/CS_India.pdf, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Vecchio, R. P. 2002. ‘Leadership and Gender Advantage’. The Leadership Quarterly 13 (6): 643–71. Verghese, J. 2014. ‘186 Indian Members of Parliament Have Criminal Cases Including Murder and Rape’. International Business Times 19 May. Available at http://www.ibtimes.co.in/186-indian-members-parliament-have-criminal-cases-including-murder-rape-600584, last accessed on 11 May 2018. Verma, Vidhu. 2011. Non-Discrimination and Equality: Contesting Boundaries of Social Justice in India. London: Routledge. Virmani, A. 2008. A National Flag for India: Rituals, Nationalism, and the Politics of Sentiment. New Delhi: Permanent Black. ———. 2015. Political Aesthetics: Culture, Critique and the Everyday. London: Routledge. Vyas, N. and V. Subrahmaniam. 2008. ‘It Is All About Mayawati Phenomenon’. The Hindu, 22 July. Available at http://www.thehindu.com/todays-paper/ tp-national/it-is-all-about-mayawati-phenomenon/article1305375.ece, last accessed on 11 May 2018.

Bibliography 389

Walzer, M. 1967. ‘On the Role of Symbolism in Political Thought’. Political Science Quarterly 82 (2): 191–204. Wängnerud, Lena. 2015. The Principles of Gender-Sensitive Parliaments. London: Routledge. Washbrook, D. 2001. ‘The Rhetoric of Democracy and Development in Late Colonial India’. In Democracy in India edited by N. G. Jayal, 36–49. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. Waylen, G. and R. Southern. 2016. ‘Gendering the UK Parliamentary Expenses Scandal and Its Aftermath’. Conference paper presented at the panel on ‘Gender and Political Institutions: Rules, Actors and Contexts’. UK Political Studies Association Annual Conference, 21–3 March 2016, Brighton, UK.. Wilkinson, Steven I. 2007. ‘Explaining Changing Patterns of Party–Voter Linkages in India’. In Patrons, Clients, and Policies edited by Herbert Kitschelt and Steven I. Wilkinson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Williams, R. 1983. Keywords. London: Fontana Paperbacks. Wolbrecht, Christina and David E. Campbell. 2007. ‘Leading by Example: Female Members of Parliament as Political Role Models’. American Journal of Political Science 51 (4): 921–39. Wyatt, A. K. J. 2009. Party System Change in South India: Political Entrepreneurs, Patterns and Processes. Abingdon: Routledge. Yadav, Yojana and Harpreet Kaur. 2014. ‘Lone Fighter, She Wages On’. Hindustan Times, 28 February. Available at https://www.hindustantimes. com/chandigarh/lone-fighter-she-wages-on/story-MviOIkuSxFhN17MLGOV5LN.html, last accessed on 7 May 2018. Yadav, Yojana and S. Palshikar. 2006. ‘Party System and Electoral Politics in the Indian States, 1952–2002: From Hegemony to Convergence’. In India’s Political Parties edited by P. R. de Souza and E. Sridharan. New Delhi: Sage Publications. Yeatman, A. 1990. Bureaucrats, Technocrats, Femocrats: Essays on the Contemporary Australian State. London: Allen & Unwin. Young, I. M. 2002. Inclusion and Democracy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Yukl, G. 2002. Leadership in Organizations. NJ: Prentice-Hall. Yuva Desh. 2012. ‘Ms. Mausam Benazir Noor (West Bengal), PYC President’. Available at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PNY6ZJSwHI, last accessed on 10 May 2018. Zee News. 2015. ‘Rs 3 Crore Showered in 30 Seconds as Female BJP MP Dances’. Available at http://zeenews.india.com/news/gujarat/rs-3-crore-showered-in30-seconds-as-female-bjp-mp-dances_1580926.html, last accessed on 26 October 2017.

Index

Aam Admi Party 99, 117, 160; women candidates of 101, 105–8 Abdullah, Omar 203 Adivasis 88, 92, 219. See also Scheduled Tribes (ST) Advani, L.K. 203 All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (AIADMK) 8, 97–8, 130, 245, 260 All India Dalit Women’s Rights Forum 118 All India Democratic Women's Association (AIDWA) 148, 234, 335 All India Women's Conference (AIWC) 39, 52, 234, 279 All-India Mahila (Women’s) Congress 51, 68 Alva, Margaret 132, 222–3, 228, 234, 318, 322 Alva, Violet 57, 132 Ambedkar, B.R. 6, 49 Anglo-Indian community 57, 132 Arya Mahila Samaj 38–9 Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) 245–6 Babri Masjid, destruction of 70, 282 Bachchan, Jaya 186

Badal, Harsimrat Kaur 132, 161–2, 168 Baghel, Sarika Singh 312 Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) 8, 96–7, 117, 126–7, 131, 160, 244, 312 Baker, Herbert 41, 43–6 Banerjee, Mamata 10, 97–8, 143, 149, 151, 153, 159, 197, 274, 285 Barnes, T. D. 310, 319–20, 338 Bengal Provincial Students Federation (BPSF) 68 Beti Bachao Andolan 148 Bhaduri, Madhu 107 Bhandari, Dil Kumar 10n9, 103, 134 Bharat Mahila Parishad 39 Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) 7, 67–70, 74, 77–8, 92–3, 101–3, 119, 157–8, 163, 196–8, 306–12; alliance with Shiv Sena 105; coalition with Shiromani Akali Dal 196; Mahila Morcha of 52, 98; women MPs from 70, 150, 159, 161, 163 Bharatmata, by Abanindranath Tagore 38–9 Bharti, Uma 216, 282, 285, 289, 310 Bhattacharya, Malini 109, 187, 217 bicameral system 7, 42–3, 56

Index 391

Biju Janata Dal (BJD) 98, 144, 260 Bose, Krishna 151, 182, 314 Botcha, Jhansi Laxmi 149, 173n6, 198n34 Brahmins 130–1, 143 Bureau of Parliamentary Studies and Training (BPST) 315–17, 322, 327, 343 Business Advisory Committee 56, 179, 185 caste 4–5, 9, 11, 16, 67, 72, 86–8, 118, 123–6, 143, 346; distribution of seats 125 (see also reservation); gender and 125–31; harassment 118 Chakravarty, Bijoya 222 Chatterjee, Somnath 184, 189, 196, 199 Chattopadhyay, Kamaladevi 39, 43, 80 Chowdhary, Santosh 127, 155–6, 312 coalition(s) 8, 11, 57, 77, 103, 127, 218, 288. See also seat sharing alliance Committee for Empowerment of Women (CEW) 27, 149, 209, 211–17, 222–39, 302, 317, 319, 337; gendered investigation of Gujarat riots by 228; politics of membership in 218–23; male membership in 239 Committee System 213–17 Commonwealth Parliamentary Association 213 Communist Party of India (Marxist) [CPI (M)] 51, 68, 95, 98, 109, 143, 279, 292, 306, 313, 317, 321 corruption 1, 59, 208, 241–2, 246–53, 256, 267–8, 272, 282, 290; in parliamentary politics 27, 242; women and 241

Council House 43–7 Criminal Law (Amendment) Act 2013 168, 185, 225 D’Souza, Beatrix 153 Dalits: mobilization of 126; violence against 154; women 90–1, 118, 123, 126–7, 143, 154–5, 166, 280 Das Gupta, Akhilesh, derogatory comments by 117 democracy 2–4, 7, 12, 14, 20, 48, 54, 81, 83, 325–30, 344; Aristotle on 31; Indian 1–2, 12, 29, 95, 271, 331, 341 Departmentally Related Standing Committees (DRSCs) 213–14, 222, 225, 230, 234, 238; on Social Justice and Empowerment 219 Desiya Murpokku Dravida Kazhagam (DMDK) 106 Dev, Sushmita 144, 162 domestic violence 69, 152, 164, 200, 206 domestic violence bill 170, 190, 204, 225n9, 228, 235, 324 Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) 8, 72, 244 Durgavahini 73 Dutt, Priya 102, 112, 115 election: 2014 71, 85–6, 90, 101, 104, 106–7, 117, 158, 163, 244, 309; of Andhra Pradesh state assembly 2009 106; campaigns 108–19, 121–2, 158, 163, 258, 296; contesting 83, 88, 107, 117, 305–13; expenses 27, 242–6, 258; for Lok Sabha 2, 84, 91–2, 96–7, 107, 126, 129, 133, 156, 306–7, 311; of women in Lok Sabha 1957–2014, 82–3 Emergency 7, 56; mobilizations against 279

392

Index

family: networks 63–7; support 61, 64, 112, 116, 119, 136, 142, 300, 322. See also work–life balance feminism 17, 153n23, 324, 345 feminist: institutionalism 13; institution-building 213; politics 165–6, 337, 345; Marxist 17 Gandhi, Indira 55, 64, 150–1, 168, 201, 244, 274, 346 Gandhi, Maneka 10, 161, 164, 222, 261, 310 Gandhi, Rahul 101, 162, 183, 203 Gandhi, Rajiv 64, 72–3, 277, 281 Gandhi, Sonia 75, 97, 99, 150, 192, 197, 274, 277–8, 310, 320, 342 Ganga Devi 10n9, 60 Gayatri Devi 108–9 gender: equality 51–4; inequalities 4, 17, 64, 207, 234, 261; neutrality 299, 323; politics 39, 78, 105, 107, 304, 331, 335, 340, 346; roles 65, 328; in Parliament 125–31; politics 105–8, 116–19; and representation 16–20 (see also representation) gendered: institution 5, 334, 336–7, 347; narratives 50–1; politics 5, 50, 78, 239; violence 118 gender-sensitive parliament 239, 294, 298–305, 322–5, 328; IPU on 301–2, 322 Government of India Act of 1858 30, 34, 42, 47; of 1935 47–8 Gulshan, Paramjit Kaur 132, 155 Hardinge, Lord 40, 44–5 Hasan, Begum Tabassum 131n6, 132, 312 Heptulla, Najma 9, 57, 92, 146, 152, 222–3 Hindu Mahasabha 47

Hindu Succession (Amendment) Act 2005 225, 234 Hindutva 67, 69–70, 77 Ilmi, Shazia 107 Immoral Traffic (Prevention) Amendment Bill, 2006 228 Indecent Representation Women (Prohibition) Amendment Bill, 2012 228, 231 Indian Councils Acts 34, 36, 39, 42 Indian National Congress/Congress party (INC) 7–8, 35–6, 39, 41, 47, 51, 57, 71–2, 92–3, 101–3, 118–19, 133, 216–17, 245, 277, 306–8, 314 International Women’s Day 75, 152–3, 205, 214, 217 Inter-Parliamentary Union (IPU) 9, 20, 210, 213, 215, 218, 239, 293–4, 299–302, 304, 313, 328–9 Irani, Smriti 87, 101, 117, 159, 186 Jammu and Kashmir National Panthers Party 257 Jardosh, Darshana Vikram 148 Jaya Prada 118–19 Jayalalithaa 85, 97–8, 131, 247 Jinarajadasa, Dorothy 42 Joint Parliamentary Committee (JPC) 27, 219 Joseph, Sarah 107 Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Bill, 2014 225, 237 kaar seva 280–2 Kalvakuntla, Kavitha 162 Kanimozhi 185, 237 Karat, Brinda 71, 118–19, 192, 320 Kaypee, Mohinder Singh 312 Khemani, S. 255–6, 267, 269 Kher, Kirron 87, 99, 117, 148 Kripalani, Sucheta 60, 68n6

Index 393

Krishnan, Kavita 160, 163 Kumar, Meira 10, 57, 91, 127, 149, 154, 169, 184, 205, 222, 310 Kumar, Shailendra 191, 205–6 Kumari, Chandresh 222 Kumari, Selja 91 Law and Justice Committee 234, 238 left parties 8, 93, 98, 109, 187. See Communist Party of India (Marxist) [CPI(M)] Lekhi, Meenakshi 148 Lily Thomas v. Union of India case 247 Lok Sabha (House of the People/ Lower House) 7–8, 43, 45, 56–7, 119–21, 125–7, 129–34, 136, 138, 146–50, 174–5, 214–19, 222–3, 306–10; 9th 222; 10th 127, 130–1, 134, 136, 143, 222, 254; 11th 182, 314; 12th 155; 13th 74, 127, 155, 225, 229; 14th 127, 131, 136, 155–6, 174–5, 178, 268, 306–7, 311; 15th 7, 126–7, 130–4, 138, 148–9, 155–6, 174, 219, 222, 231, 307, 309; 16th 81, 91–2, 119, 126, 129, 131, 138, 146–9, 222–3, 264, 309–11; barriers to women in 81; first-time members of 309; representatives of 57; Secretariat 315–16; woman MPs of 162, 184 Lutyens, Edwin Landseer 31, 41, 43–4, 46, 48, 62 Maadam, Poonamben 240 Mahagathbandhan (Grand Alliance) 105 Mahajan, Sumitra 10, 57, 146, 149, 154, 169, 174, 178, 200, 222, 310 Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee (MGNREGA) 170, 324

Maheshwari, Kiran 154, 178, 185, 199–200, 204–5, 311 Mahila Congress 98 Mahila Morcha 68, 73, 148, 335 Malini, Hema 87 Mane, Nivedita 175–6 Masood, Rasheed 247 May, Theresa 163, 287 Mayawati 91, 97, 127, 160, 244, 325 MP Local Area Development Scheme (MPLADS) 27, 242–3, 253–61, 264, 267–9, 272, 339; expenditure 258–69; funds 256, 267–8; governance 256–9; and politics of distribution 253–6; and separation of powers 257; spending 257, 261 Ministry of Women and Child Development (MWCD) 161, 222, 225, 228–31, 234, 238 Modi, Narendra 158, 161, 244, 264, 312: on MPLADS for toilet building 260 Montagu-Chelmsford Reforms (Government of India Act) 41–3, 46–7 Mother India 37–8 MPs: elected from SC-reserved 126, 128; elected from ST reserved 129; expenditure of 129, 269; marital status of 139; Occupational Backgrounds of 137; wages and allowance of 211, 269–70 Mufti, Mehbooba 131, 198, 202, 310–11 Mukherjee, Geeta 10, 76, 182, 320 Munde, Gopinath 243 Murmu, Draupadi 111 Muslim women 91–2, 127, 129, 131; in the Lok Sabha 91 Naidu, Sarojini 39, 42, 50, 60

394

Index

Narasimha Rao, P.V. 217, 254–5 Narmada Bachao Andolan 160 Natarajan, Meenakshi 142, 196 National Commission for Women (NCW) Act, 1990 148–9, 158, 164, 211, 224, 228–33, 337 National Democratic Alliance (NDA) 8, 74, 105, 190, 222 National Federation of Indian Women (NFIW) 51, 68, 234, 279 National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (NREGA) 27, 170, 179, 191–3, 195, 208, 324 Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) 35, 42–3, 101, 110, 168, 175, 196 Nehru, Jawaharlal 11, 29–30, 37, 47–9, 55, 64; as first Prime Minister 34 Noor, Mausam 116, 133 Noor, Ruby 133 Other Backward Classes (OBCs) 129–31, 151, 153, 341; MPs 129–31 Owaisi, Asaduddin 198, 203 Paattali Makkall Katchi (PMK) 105 Pal, Jagdambika 253, 268 Panag, Gul 99, 117 panchayat(s) 61, 74, 121, 144, 193, 241, 259, 261, 267, 346; and gender quotas 144 Parliament 2–3, 5–11, 19–21, 29–34, 44–5, 77–9, 123–5, 211–13, 243, 302–3, 322–5, 330–1; design of 43; as ‘temple of democracy' 11–12; Nehru on 11; as theatre of democracy 2 Parliamentary Committee 27, 155, 210–12, 218, 239, 259, 302 Parliamentary Debates, participation in 171–9, 188–99 Parliamentary structures, in India 54–8

Parliamentary democracy 16; bicameral 7, 42, 43, 56; politics 11, 27, 61, 63–4, 67, 72–3, 78, 242, 256, 285, 297–9; system 6, 37, 54, 181, 271, 276 Pateriya, Neeta 195, 311 Patil, Pratibha 57, 119, 216 Patkar, Medha 101, 107, 160 performance (of representation in Parliament) 4–5, 11–12, 14–16, 18–21, 50, 55, 68, 122, 124–5, 156, 178, 182–3, 188, 207, 214, 253, 271–2, 282, 298, 301, 303, 314, 333–6, 340–1, 343–5; as candidates in elections 86–7, 108, 112, 143; of gendered politics 25, 276–8; of leadership 284–5, 287, 297, 331, 339; of solidarity 320–1; of women in Parliament 22–3, 151–2, 168–71, 179, 325, 327–8, 332, 338 performative labour 84, 107–8, 122, 214, 314, 338 Perween, Kahkashan 132 physical violence 71, 117, 295 Poddar, Aparupa 132n7, 143 political: economy 12, 15, 253; entrepreneurs 285; families 60–1, 63–6, 72–3, 78, 132–3, 142–4; institutions 1–3, 12–13, 15–17, 32, 34–9, 47, 60, 102, 169, 291–2, 334–5; leaders 274–7, 280, 282–4, 290, 305, 342; leadership 274, 276, 283–5, 290, (politicians); mobilizations 37, 48; movements 61, 67, 69, 143 politicians 109–12, 119, 123–4, 143–4, 157–9, 244–7, 249, 253, 281–2, 294–7, 305–6; with criminal cases 246, 249 Praja Rajyam (People’s Rule) 106 Prasad, Ravi Shankar 186

Index 395

Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (PNDT) Act 152 Privileges Committee 219, 254 Protection of Women Against Sexual Harassment at Workplace Bill, 2010 228 Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act 2005 27, 152, 154, 170, 184–5, 189, 234. See also domestic violence bill Public Accounts Committee 213, 219 quota(s) 17, 47, 52, 61, 74, 76–8, 120–1, 126, 241, 320, 341–2 Representation of the People Act, 1951 243 Radhakrishnan, Varkala 201 Raisina Hill 40–1, 43, 46 Rajya Sabha (House of the States/ Upper House) 7–10, 45–6, 56–7, 75, 92, 159–60, 184–7, 208, 222, 225, 309; Muslim women MPs in 131–2; nominations to 245; women MPs in 10, 136 Ranjan, Ranjeet 152, 185, 198, 208, 310 Rashtriya Lok Dal (RLD) 127 Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) 67, 70, 280 Reddy, Muthulakshmi 81 Reservation Express 77 reservations 47, 51, 61, 73–9 119, 124–5, 193, 320, 346; for SCs and STs 67, 88, 90, 99, 101, 127, 311; Velayudhan on 9 representation (political) 6, 11, 14, 20, 22, 30–1, 34–7, 41, 46–7, 51, 121, 143, 147, 169–71, 188–9, 237, 239, 246, 270, 290, 330–4, 344–6; electoral 1–2, 9, 330, 334; gender 5, 16, 22, 208, 331–2, 334; political 5, 16, 22, 23, 25,

30, 49, 121, 170, 207, 290, 305; theories of 21; of women’s 23, 25, 60–1, 74–5, 77, 84, 91, 120–1, 124, 131, 133, 145, 149, 154, 165, 217–18, 294–5, 335–6, 342 Right to Information (RTI) Act (2005) 245, 255, 269 Roy, Aruna 160n36 Sachar Committee Report 51 Samajwadi Party (SP) 8, 97, 191, 208, 312, 320 Sangma, P.A. 149 Saraswati, Ramabai 38 Scheduled Castes (SCs) 8–9, 51, 88, 125–6, 129–30, 153, 155, 175, 219; reserved constituencies for 90–1, 126–7, 143, 154, 156, 178; in West Bengal 155; women MPs of 134 Scheduled Tribes (STs) 8, 51, 59, 88, 125–6, 129, 153, 175, 219, 311; reserved constituencies for 127; seats 126 Scindia, Vijaya Raje 10, 59, 70, 289 Scindia, Yashodhara Raje 199 Selja Kumari 91, 142 sexism 116–19, 179, 183–8, 207, 319 Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition and Redressal) Act 2013 326 sexual harassment/violence 118, 164, 208, 224, 249, 326 Shaiza, Rano 10n9, 103 Sharmila, Irom 86 Shiromani Akali Dal (SAD) 8 Shiv Sena 8, 96, 105, 119, 310; women representatives of 105 Sibal, Kapil 247 Singh, Kalyan 191n19, 194 Singh, Kanti 189 Singh, Manmohan 56, 199, 202 Singh, Rajkumari Ratna 222

396

Index

Vajpayee, Atal Bihari 74, 202, 217, 281 Vasanthi Devi 85 Viduthalai Chiruthaigal Katchi (VCK) 85–6 violence 69–71, 116–18, 152–4, 163–4, 170, 184–6, 200–1, 204–6, 225, 228, 295–6; gender-based 69, 116, 153, 163, 168, 228, 260–1, 279, 295, 324, 334. See also sexual harassment/violence Vishva Hindu Parishad (VHP) 67, 70, 130 Vyas, Girija 148–9, 196, 217, 311

144–59, 169–72, 178–86, 192–201, 203–9, 277–82, 291–2, 309–15, 335–43; among committee chairpersons 222; and dress 151–2; empowerment and 193, 205, 208, 211–12, 225; exclusion and 142; genderinsensitive comments on 325; groups of 52, 77, 212, 234–5, 239, 300, 328, 337; incumbent 300, 306–7, 311; as leaders 74, 97, 107, 116, 274, 277, 279, 286–7, 294, 315, 319; marital status of 136, 142; from North East 134; organizations of 51, 224, 234; in Panchayats 144–7, 241; as Parliamentarians 3, 60, 71, 275–7, 318, 329; participation of 11, 61, 81, 84, 92, 96, 105, 116, 123, 188–9, 207–9, 292, 295, 302–3, 308; performance of 325; as political leaders 274, 277; as politicians 99, 111–12, 123, 144, 245, 253, 295–7, 299, 306, 311, 321; in Rajya Sabha 136; serving for more terms 145–6; sustainability in Parliament of 327–9 Women's Indian Association (WIA) 39, 42 women's movements 17, 27, 39, 42, 52, 69–70, 121, 136, 188, 191–2, 208, 212–13, 228, 234–5, 237–8, 346–7; autonomous 68, 70, 75, 325, 346–7 Women's Reservation Bill (WRB) 10, 74–5, 77–8, 97, 124, 151–2, 208, 318, 320, 324–5, 341–2, 345–6 Workplace Equality Networks (WENs) 343

women/female MPs 84–8, 101–6, 120, 124–5, 127, 129–34,

Yadav, Dimple 159, 161 Yadav, Sharad 151, 186, 320

Sitharaman, Nirmala 159 Sodhi, Nafisa Ali 117 Sori, Soni 107 Speaker, Lok Sabha 10, 91, 239, 302, 310, 323; women as 10, 57, 127, 154, 239 Sujatha, C.S. 172n5, 173n6, 174 Sule, Supriya 110, 168, 185, 196, 206 Swaminathan, Ammu 42, 60 Swaraj, Sushma 38, 99, 110, 150–1, 159–60, 169, 174, 201, 274, 277, 309–10 Swarnakumari Devi 38 Tagore, Abanindranath 37 Tarai, Rita 144 Thakkar, Jayaben 178, 195, 311–12 Tilak, Bal Gangadhar 36, 41 Tirath, Krishna 91, 101, 196, 206, 222–3 Trinamul Congress (TMC) 8, 97–8, 260 United Progressive Alliance (UPA) 8, 106, 171, 186, 192, 197n31, 202–3, 214

About the Authors

Shirin M. Rai is professor in the Department of Politics and International Studies at the University of Warwick, UK. She has written extensively on issues of gender, governance, and development in academic journals, and her latest books include New Frontiers in Feminist Political Economy (with Georgina Waylen), Democracy in Practice: Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament (as editor), and The Grammar of Politics and Performance (as editor, with Janelle Reinelt). She has consulted with the United Nations’ Division for the Advancement of Women and United Nations Development Programme. She is a founder member of the South Asia Research Network on Gender, Law and Governance, and she was director of the Leverhulme Trust programme on Gendered Ceremony and Ritual in Parliament (2007–11). She is a Fellow of the Academy of Social Sciences and an executive committee member of the International Political Science Association. She has also been a visiting professorial fellow at the Gender Institute, London School of Economics (2012–15), and is honorary adjunct professor, Department of International Studies, Monash University, Australia, and Ford Visiting Professor at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Carole Spary is assistant professor at the School of Politics and International Relations, University of Nottingham, UK. Prior to this she was lecturer in politics at the University of York (2011–14) and Leverhulme Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Warwick (2008–11). She has published on democratic politics and development—particularly gender, development, political representation, and political institutions in India—including journal articles on women’s political leadership in India and candidate nomination in elections, a comparative study of

398

About the Authors

first female speakers of Parliament, and on disruption and ethno-linguistic representation in the Indian Parliament. She has also written on gender, development, and the state in India, and she teaches on gender and development and Asian politics. She has guest-edited two special issues of the journals Democratisation and Contemporary South Asia. She was the convenor of the Politics of South Asia Specialist Group of the UK’s Political Studies Association from 2008 to 2016, and is the deputy director of the Institute of Asia and Pacific Studies at the University of Nottingham.