Time’s up: We’re done being quiet

Last week, the Indian Twitterverse was an education. From the comedy collective AIB, we learnt of “cognitive biases”, the formal term for sticking fingers in your ears and yelling “LA LA LA” to drown out the accusations of sexual harassment against a friend or colleague. We discovered that one of the lesser-known ways of dealing with chronic illness is to demand nude photos and send unsolicited, graphic images to women. Most importantly, thanks to women who chose to amplify the voices of victims by sharing their stories, we realised time’s up.

Between Thursday and Friday, the reputations of several Indian men — journalists, authors, photographers, comedians — took a beating when women spoke up and alleged they’d been victims of abuse at their hands. There are, of course, those who think making anonymous claims of victimhood are ‘easy’ ways to get five minutes of fame.

The pragmatic reality, though, is that anonymity wears off quicker than lipstick when you’re making allegations, particularly those of sexual harassment. Also, if you’ve made up a false allegation, the chances of someone exposing you is high and if a shred of doubt sticks to your claim, that’s the end of your credibility.

The most challenging part of speaking up is that in order to tell your story, you have to revisit the past. Trauma is a muscle memory and it can paralyse you. As you relive being a victim, you become vulnerable again and forget that you’re a survivor. You hate yourself for being weak, for ‘letting’ him do what he did, for not being able to stand up for yourself and others. Your abuser is a phantom presence, but the fact of your victimhood? That feels as bitter as cyanide.

All the allegations we heard last week have a few things in common: The abusers are male, have a network of support, and believe they’re entitled to women submitting to them.

At the heart of this smug complacency is the conviction that talented men should be allowed bad behaviour, which in turn means women must be victimised for the greater good. Brought up to be pleasing and undisruptive, most women are socialised into prioritising everyone else before themselves. Their trauma is of less value than the contributions made by their abusers – he has a family that he provides for; is an artist whose work brings acclaim to the country. Next to such grand accomplishments, a woman’s suffering is painted as petty. Even voicing it is a selfish act. Take one for the team, ladies. Suffer for art (his art, that is).

For those rowdy ladies unwilling to swallow this spiel, there’s a different muzzle – the burden of proof. Never mind that our public life is full of leaders and spokespersons making unsubstantiated claims. Those people we can take at face value, but not a woman with an allegation against a man.

There’s a lot to be said for filing complaints and establishing records, but especially in cases of harassment, evidence and eyewitnesses are hard to come by. Also, the Indian legal system doesn’t inspire much confidence if you’re a victim. Take Bhanwari Devi, thanks to whom we have a law against sexual harassment in the workplace and who filed a case in 1995 against the men who gang-raped her. She is still awaiting a final verdict.

More recently, in 2016, photographer Mayank Katwal filed a defamation suit against the 36 women who accused him of sexual harassment. While the wheels of the legal bus go round and round, Katyal is organising festivals, including one dedicated to “women in the Himalayas”.

Under the circumstances, is it surprising that women rely on whisper networks and lists like the one that Raya Sarkar compiled of sexual harassers in academia?

Some will argue that these online campaigns are frustratingly hollow – a story trends for a bit only to be replaced by a new point of outrage. It’s true that there is an unnerving informality to all this because nothing’s on record and everything is a story.

Yet in this very same informality is a strength – stories travel, from mouth to mouth, ear to ear; chipping away at old conventions by slyly raising questions in a listener’s mind. If we’re going to change the way people think, it’ll be through the stories we tell and the ones we make sure are heard.

Even if it is in whispers and private messages, we’re talking and we’re finding our voices. We’re done being quiet.