T M Krishna the mind questions, the music moves, the mountains beckon
The contents of the Hema Committee report describing rampant sexual harassment and abuse in the Malayalam film industry only confirms what everyone already knew. As long as it remained in the realm of rumour and gossip, no one cared because men’s misbehaviour has always been locker-room, dinner-time and casual chatter. Women have had no choice but to keep silent, or just leave when men guffawed during these exchanges. Due to inter-generational normalisation, many women accepted all this as ‘fine’. The gaslighting of women for the abuse they encounter, in which both men and women participate, is standardised by legitimised misogyny. When #metoo was a visible part of public discourse, an erstwhile leading Tamil female actor called it all “crap”, and the male host, who was also a senior actor, agreed with enthusiasm. It is in such an aggressively testosterone-driven environment that the Women in Cinema Collective forced the State of Kerala to appoint a committee, investigate, and publicly release the Hema Committee report. This is a very important step towards creating a healthy, equal and free work environment for actors in all film industries.
When rumours are confirmed, those who deny or turn a blind eye to these realities have no place to hide. A few reflect and change, but most use the old male trick: blame the women. I vividly remember many discussions in which men kept saying, “But women come and fall all over these men”; “Girls behave in an inviting manner”; “They flirt.” The man becomes a victim of the female seductress.
This is not a new narrative. We were told the same thing about Menaka entrapping Vishwamitra. The man, who otherwise is dominant and controlling, suddenly becomes weak, with no control over his sexual instincts. The woman is an evil conniver, who knows that this is her only effective weapon to supress the man.
Through such stories that every culture perpetuates, women are reduced to sexual objects, instigators and manipulators. This means women need to be controlled and kept in their place; if not, the world of men will crumble. Once we buy into all this, knowingly or unknowingly, denying or excusing aggressive male sexual behaviour is just an extension.
Then, the worst happens, like in the case of R G Kar Hospital in Kolkata. The unpalatable nature of the entire episode rattles us. Social media is filled with people saying, “What if she was your sister, friend or mother”. Keeping aside the disturbing need to bring up relationships to convince people of such a wrong, the anger and outrage lasts just about a few weeks.
What bothers me even more is that even when the topic is burning, very few make the connection between unwelcome sexual innuendos, harassment at homes, workplaces and public spaces, and sexual violence: that they are part of the same social culture. This conditioned disassociation allows for all these cumulative acts of violation to continue and be condoned unabated. It is this separation that also leads to so-called remedies that curb and curtail women, rather than address the problem of men!
Women in the art world, especially the performing arts, are more vulnerable because of the informality that is built into how the arts operate. In institutions, though not perfect, mechanisms that not only ensure safety but also educate and attempt to change men can be structured. It is possible to provide a secure and confidential environment to make official complaints. Consequences for crossing the line can also be mandated.
In the arts, even if there are associations, none of this really happens, because everything — learning, hiring, payment and workplace requirements — are ad hoc and keep changing, determined by the most powerful in that given context. This means that anyone with less social capital is at the mercy of the influential.
Other forms of socially-constructed markers — such as caste, sexual preference, genders, religion, ethnicity and poverty — add layers of risk. People who are at the receiving end of these intersected forms of discrimination are more susceptible to sexual violence. This is because the perpetrator is sure that he will never be held accountable. This leads to survivors keeping quiet about all that goes on, or just leaving the art form.
In my own area of work, ‘classical’ music, moral values that are often flaunted seem warped and twisted, even possibly cover for toxic behaviour. The assumed spiritual superiority of the ‘classical’ art forms provides another coating of protectionism, making sexual harassment itself a taboo topic because it muddies the classical’s puritanical image. Musicians with power post generic social media messages condemning sexual harassment, but are not willing to stick their neck out. And those who keep asking for proof do so knowing fully well that the survivor will dare not speak.
Aficionados of the arts often ask this question: “What can we do?” Stop buying tickets for movies in which a sexual offender is acting. Do not attend a concert, dance performance or play in which someone who is accused of sexual harassment is performing. Do not send your children to workshops and classes conducted by such people. You too need to feel safe as audience members. Demand that organisations, theatres and performance spaces declare that they are anti-discrimination of any sort; be it caste, gender, sexual orientation, or religion. Make them put out notices assuring everyone’s safety and provide a helpline for registering a grievance.
These are just a few things to begin with, but there is much more to be done. Call for change must come from all sides, including those who derive pleasure from art.