Progress of women in society is entirely unrelated to the gender profile of Parliament

For as long as I can remember, I have been opposed to the principle of reserving seats for women in

Parliament. Way back in the now-forgotten mad days of the Inder Gujral era, I incurred the wrath of the feminist lobby when I wrote forcefully against women’s

reservation.

 

   I think my arguments have stood the test of time. I asked how many of those who were supporting women’s reservation would react if I suggested reservation for Muslims based on their representation in the population. My guess was that most proponents of women’s reservation would oppose any such provision for Muslims.

 

   And yet, it is possible to make out a case for the view that Muslims are at least as badly off as, say, Dalits or tribals. Those who oppose reserving seats for them respond that while they feel badly about the status of the Muslim minority, they do not believe in an extension of reservation.

 

   That’s a reasonable view. But so many of those who are opposed to caste-based or religion-based reservation suddenly change their minds when it comes to gender-based reservation.

 

   If we are all agreed that reservation has gone too far and that India must be a society based on merit not special reservations, then why must we abandon these views when it comes to women’s reservation?

 

   Could it be that the nice middle-class ladies who opposed Mandal and now oppose further reservations on most grounds, suddenly realise that they have something to gain from gender-based reservation?

 

   My point was not that I was against women. I was simply against reservation.

 

   Besides, the whole argument for women’s reservation seems to me to be based on a central fallacy. What its supporters are saying is that Parliament must not be a reflection of the will of the voters but must be an accurate representation of the balance in our society.

 

   This is dangerous stuff. How do we respond when somebody counts the number of Brahmins in the House and points out that they are over-represented compared to their presence in the population? What do we say to Muslims when they tell us that they are under-represented? Once we accept the principle that it is unfair to women not to give them representation that equals their proportion in the population, all kinds of consequences follow.

 

   In fact, the principle of representative government is that a representative speaks for everyone, not just those who belong to his caste or his community – or even, his gender. Tamper with that principle and you question the very basis of electoral democracy.

 

   Besides, women are only fooling themselves if they believe that the only way for them to progress is for more of them to get into Parliament. Few people will deny that women have made enormous strides in the United States in the last century. The same is true for women in Britain. And yet, in both countries, never ever has the proportion of women to men in Parliament approached 50/50. So, it is not necessary to have a chamber full of women for progress to occur.

 

"When the Bill was passed, it was as though democracy and civilisation had won against the forces of prejudice and violence. Discourse and voting had triumphed over discord and violence."

   Nor is it clear that women actually help other women when they are in power. Did women advance by leaps and bounds in Tamil Nadu when Jayalalitha was in charge? Has Mayawati been good for the women of UP? And if it was simply a question of gender then why did Indian women not advance dramatically from 1967 to 1984 when Indira Gandhi was in charge (except for the brief Janata interregnum)? Contrast how much women advanced in India during the period when the country was run by a woman with the strides made by American women during exactly the same period and you will see that the progress of women in society is entirely unrelated to the gender profile of Parliament.

 

   I’ve heard many debates on the issue over the last decade and yet I have found nothing to make me change my mind. In fact, the only notable development of the last few years is that a number of successful, well-educated and otherwise liberated women have come out against the Bill on the grounds that it ghetto-izes women, forcing them to stand for election against each other.

 

   So why then was I secretly pleased when the Reservation Bill was finally passed in the Rajya Sabha?

 

   Mine was a complicated response and one that reeks of the triumph of emotion over logical consistency. But then, we are not always creatures of reason.

 

   Simply put, I saw the vote as a triumph for democracy over prejudice. I know what objections the three Yadavs have to the Bill and not one of those objections has anything to do with the arguments I outlined above. These men represent the worst prejudices of the Hindi heartland and their record in politics has always been one that emphasises the chauvinist male over the interests of women. I could not possibly accept their argument for reservation-within-reservation with the special claims for Dalits and backwards. More to the point, I don’t think that even they believed their rhetoric. These were mere excuses. Their main objection was to the very empowerment of women.

 

   Funnily enough, as offensive as I found their views, I did not grudge them the right to hold these views. My objection was to the manner in which they tried to subvert the essential principles of democracy by preventing a majority consensus from operating by using disruption and goondagiri. Not only was their behaviour against every tenet of democracy, it also went against every notion of civilised behaviour.

 

   When the Bill was passed, it was as though democracy and civilisation had won against the forces of prejudice and violence. Discourse and voting had triumphed over discord and violence.

 

   So, was I wrong to be pleased? Should I have supported the Yadavs, who were opposing the Bill – just as I do – even if it was for entirely the wrong reasons? Or am I right to take the line that a democratic consensus has overruled my view and that in our system, a considered expression of majority opinion takes precedence over an individual’s belief?

 

   I don’t know, you can argue it both ways. But, in my heart, I remain delighted that eventually democracy defeated goondagiri.