Problems of Western Feminism

Contemporary day Western feminism might as well be used as a euphemism for the hegemonic feminist theory, for both are non-class, non-racialized, at least according to Mohanty.

In this world of polarised communities and strong power structures, Chandra Mohanty, in her essay, Under Western Eyes: Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses, goes on to identify gender as a source of oppression. However, her take is quite different from ones common idea of gender struggle. She does not look at the man-versus-woman debate. Instead, she takes a more globalised view of the world and pays close scrutiny to how women of the West may well be waging a gender war against other women, or particularly those of the Global South. For me, Mohantys article was able to achieve three main things: the need for creating an understanding of how all global systems work in symbiosis (for instance, capitalism, globalisation, imperialism etc), the need to understand how the “Third World Woman” is in fact, constructed from the perspective of the “First World Woman, and the need to understand the detrimental effect of generalisations.  

Keeping in view the colonial past of most countries (both, colonized and colonizer), and their present of globalisation and capitalism, it is almost impossible to look at any aspect of these given communities in a solitary manner. According to Mohanty, “western feminist scholarship cannot avoid the challenge of situating itself and examining its role in such a global economic and political framework. To do any less would be to ignore the complex interconnections between first and third world economies and the profound effect of this on the lives of women in these countries.” This analysis is particularly important for it brings to attention how ideas like imperialism, militarism, capitalism and globalisation are not to be looked independently, for all these systems practice in an interconnected manner and sustain each other. But it isn’t only their compounded nature that one has to call attention to. No. In fact, it is a lot more important to assess how at the heart of some of these practices are gendered and heteronormative sexual politics and ideologies that cement this kind of imperialism and militarism, further strengthening ideas of gendered oppression. Similarly there is a need to always answer questions of freedom and liberation (of the colonized) by deeply engaging with its imperial past and the epistemological question of decolonization and imperialism itself. This is pertinent in understanding ideas of decolonisation on psychic or social levels, or in terms of racialized gendered ideologies.

When Edward Said calls attention to the orient, he mainly lays focus on the need to look at it from the view of the occident and how the latter creates the former. This implies that when a French man goes to Algeria and looks at her people as “backward and primitive”, he is in fact, assuming himself to be at the pinnacle of progress and hence, creating the identity of the Algerian as being different from his own i.e primitive. This same principal can be applied to women of the first world, and how they construct this “third world woman” as being oppressed and primitive. When movements like “Free the Nipple” become flag bearers of what contemporary day feminism should look like, white women look down at the covered woman of the third world and assume her state of oppression in relation to the amount of clothes she uses to cover herself. This train of thought, although common, is inherently problematic, for it is entirely based on the assumption that the idea of a free, liberated woman can be conflated with the “western woman” and how anything that differs from this definition may well be constituting itself as oppressed and awaiting progress. And hence, it becomes almost compulsory, at least in feminist scholarship, to look at the third world woman through her right and culture, and independent of any western thoughts.

But is it as easy?

Most western feminists studying the “third world woman”, almost inevitably comply to the negative connotations that the phrase itself comes with. Part of it may be attributed to ethnocentrism while for the most part, the loaded term can be blamed. The whole term “third world woman” itself points to the problematic idea of generalisation, and how all these women from the Global South are an assumed cookie-cutter model of each other- oppressed and far from progressive. As a result, the first world woman constantly feels the “need” to protect this third world woman, and to “enlighten” her with what real progress should look like.

How this may be put to action is a stark reality in itself.

In 2002, when George Bush is trying to build his empire through waging a war in Afghanistan, Laura Bush comes forth and attributes this intervention to the “emancipation of Afghan women”. Her husband constantly refers to those women as “women of cover” and those who are “oppressed and marginalised”. One may ask how his definition of the woman in the burka (“women of cover”) suddenly, and so nonchalantly, translates to the oppressed, but then the precedent is enough as an answer. The 19-year long war, which sees no future of an end, has further sabotaged the country and made it into a more stimulated cauldron of oppression and tumult, at least for the women. The Afghan woman is possibly more scared to leave her house, and if she does covering is a prerequisite, not because the “Taliban are oppressive” and demand it, but because there is no other way. Even if one hypothetically believes that the war has “liberated Afghanistan”, one can bring Laura Bush’s definition of the “emancipation of these women” and they still still look a lot more destitute.

Feminism is a powerful phenomenon, and while its allies grow each day, people who feel threatened by it also grow at the same speed- almost linearly. Some may deem those non-allies as women-hating, atrocious humans, but then Chandra Mohanty clearly leaves a room for why the woman in burka may “not need” feminism and what her idea of it may be.

Cabral and the Palestinian National Liberation Movement

As someone belonging to Guinea-Bissau, a Portuguese colony, Cabrals entire argument circulates around the importance of culture in the national liberation of Africa. He particularly stresses on the importance of the African culture and defuncts any misconceptions about the richness of it. According to him, the link between colonialism and culture of the colonised is particularly important for “the greater the differences between the culture of the oppressed people and that of the oppressor, the more possible such a victory becomes.” Cabral premises this argument on the basis of the African example and how their dense culture created an easier path for the Europeans to dominate, thus alluding to the in-depth African colonial crisis.

The question however, of Cabrals main argument, still remains. Does the highest form of imperialism really come from cultural domination, and how can this be reverted?

According to Cabral, culture is the main steering force in colonial and post-colonial societies. In the former, the coloniser “not only creates a whole system of repression of the cultural life of the people colonised, but also arouses and develops the cultural alienation of a section of the populace either by the so-called assimilation of the indigenous people or by the creation of a social abyss between an indigenous elite and the popular masses.” In case of the latter, Cabral suggests the colonised people to rid themselves of the western influence (in case of Africa) through a certain set of rules. “The liberation movement must base its program on profound knowledge of the culture of the people, and it must be able to appreciate the elements of this culture, giving to each its due weight, and also, appreciate the various aspects levels it has reached in each social category.”

Colonialism, now almost a benign term, has caused great tumult across the world, and hence, the question of decolonisation remains pertinent and ever-integral to the given debate. While from most places, colonisers have physically withdrawn leaving behind a lasting post-colonial influence, some parts of the world still suffer where its native people are continuously struggling in a call for decolonisation- all in an effort to rid themselves of the occupier, at least physically. The case of Palestine and Israel is one example.

This piece will be focused on looking at the Palestinian Liberation Struggle in light of what Cabral said years ago, and shall aim to see if it is still relevant or not.

The anachronistic debate of the creation of Israel remains at the heart of the given conflict, however for this piece it may be convenient to elude that the Israelis occupied the Palestinian land in early 1900s and since then, the natives have been struggling to reclaim their territories. After three Arab-Israeli wars and two dreadful intifadas, Palestinians still remain devoid of their homeland.

Cabral may argue that this dominance is mainly rooted in the polarised cultures of the two communities for the farther they are to each other, the easier it is to dominate. And if we look at the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, this may well be true. Since Jews did not belong to one homogenous nation, they brought with them different cultures and traditions of different countries. The Ashkenazi Jews brought with them German and Western European tastes, while the Sephardics brought forward Spanish and North African ideas. Similarly the Mizrachis came from areas like Iraq and Yemen, bringing their culture. Eventually they all settled down in what we now know as Israel, and developed a new, seemigly homogenous, culture of what was to define an Israeli. For the most part, they lacked one coherent culture and hence, most possibly, their religious practices started overlapping with their cultural ones. The kippah (a Jewish cap) became the sign of an Israeli, while they also started incorporating “hummus and falafel” in their cuisines and claiming it to be purely Israeli.

This settler colonialism raised staggering questions of how this new culture was even being formed. However in the early years, the main focus, as Frantz Fanon puts it, was on decolonising through violence- an attempt that has clearly not worked so far.

If one needs to make sense of how deeply entrenched this Israeli settler colonialism still is, Cabral is unarguably the best at giving us a rational and relevant argument. It can be seen how the Israelis came in as different groups and ethnicities, took over the land, knit picked from the Palestinian culture and eventually formed their own brand of it in the new land. Many years have passed by and the Palestinians after having exhausted most systems of violence have now resorted to something more interesting – something Cabral seems to have suggested years ago. They are now, quite literally, using their Arab culture to wage a war against Israel in an effort to nationally liberate and decolonise themselves.

The Palestinians, now more than ever, are raising voices on things that seemingly don’t matter in such a long lasting and dreadful conflict. They are starting to call out the Israelis on the culture they have apparently stolen from the Arab land, and in effect, proving the point of Palestines existence as something that dates way before Israel itself. An example of this is something as simple as the whole idea of “hummus and falafel” being at the heart of Israeli cuisine.

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Another example of Palestinians trying to gain national liberation is through their cultural dance “Dabkeh”. The dance, over the years, has become a prominent symbol of the struggle and even more so, the Palestinian identity. The dance has not only been performed in the bruised war zones of Gaza Strip as a symbol of the Palestinian spirit, but also across the world in different academic campuses, where the Arabs unite in a common cause for Palestine and send out messages of an impending national liberation. The dance, which was previously seen as a mere art form, is also now seen as a threat to Israelis and their identity and a way to further to Palestinian interest.

Lastly and most importantly, stands the Palestinian keffiyeh. The scarf, a seemingly plain piece of cloth, has now come to represent and embody the Palestinian nationalist struggle as a whole. It is worn by Palestinians and those who stand in solidarity with it, all across the world, and is celebrated as a symbol of pride that Palestine brings to them. A recent controversy cropped up by the American chain “Urban Outfitters” reasserts its power. The clothing line started selling the keffiyeh in stores across the US, calling it an “anti-war scarf”, and soon Jewish people rose up against its sale, eventually leading to the chain removing it. This incident in particular, reaffirms Cabrals argument on how central culture is in waging a war against the coloniser, and how impactful it can be. The keffiyah is now a common sight across the Gaza Strip into the worlds biggest airport and famous coffee shops. This suggests that while some maybe fighting an on-ground war in Palestine and Israel itself, this culture representation and struggle has made the cause a lot more common to those who are far and alien to it. Moreover, this also seems to internationalise the conflict and in effect, puts more pressure on Israel as though there is a new Yasser Arafat being born with every new keffiyah being worn.

Farah Abdel Jawad, a Palestinian carrying out a pro-Palestinian protest in the United States while wearing her keffiyah.

 

How Dada would have seen some Soviet posters

This piece is an imaginative one. It shall aim to look at Dada Amir Haider Khan’s journey to the USSR, juxtaposed to Soviet propaganda posters of that time, and try to imagine how Dada might have seen each one, and how they would have contributed as a pull factor in Dada’s decision to sail to Moscow. 

The wake of 1900’s brought forth a world that was a cauldron of oppression and exploitation. The First World War was about to be triggered, United States was at the brink of becoming the next world power, Britain was ruling 25% of the world’s land surface and India had been deeply chained by colonial rule. 

In the midst of this, the century also gave birth to Amir Haider Khan, a revolutionary, a communist activist and an unsung hero of the Indian Independence Movement – one who’s words and ideas can be seen physically in Soviet posters.

In 1914, when the First World War broke out, India was naturally a British ally, with most of the Indian army being sent to fight against Germany in different parts of the world. Dada was then overseeing Anglo-Indian trade as a part of the British merchant navy, possibly laying close scrutiny on how exploitative and extractive the relationship of the two countries was. 

In 1917, when Dadabhai Naoroji died, he left behind a detailed insight into Britain as a brutal exploiter and the famous drain theory that put Britain at a questionable position within the colonised country. That same year, while Indian exploitation was being measured for its magnanimity, on the other side of the world, women were marching out of their houses, in the Russian capital, Petrograd, protesting over bread shortages and demanding an end to Tsarist autocracy- an action that eventually gave way to the Russian Revolution. If one looks from the side of Dada, this revolution was probably not only an alien idea, but also a seemingly impossible one, especially for India of that time. 

“This is what October revolution gave to female worker and farmer.”
“Only the close union of workers and peasants will save Russia from destruction and hunger.” (1917-1921)

To Dada, these posters could have possibly been a utopia of what an ideal revolution and freedom smelled like- one that was far from India. So far Dada had not seen similar Indian women or peasantry at the forefront of any art, let alone a nation altogether.

In 1918, Dada was posted to the United States Merchant Marine, where he travelled most of the world and met people that eventually could be seen as pertinent in shaping his anti-British and communist ideas. He first met Joseph Mulkane, an Irish nationalist who introduced him to anti-British political ideas, and then some Indian nationalists and Ghadar party members who then also travelled with him to Moscow. 

In 1919, while India was suffering from the trauma of the cold-blooded genocide of Jalianwala Bagh, Dada was distributing ‘Ghadar ki Goonj’ to Indians in sea ports around the world. The following image is what the compilation of ‘Ghadar ki Goonj’ looked like: 

“Ghadar di Gunj – Echoes of Mutiny”

While Dada was distributing these across the world, and sending out instigative messages for Indians to unchain themselves from colonial rule, Soviet propaganda posters were no different. They were too, sending out similar messages- messages of breaking free from the systematic oppression that dictated that time period.

“The dawn of freedom cannot be extinguished”

And hence, it can only be imagined that Dada gained inspiration from the Soviet posters for his own anti-colonial movement.

By this time, Dada had become deeply entrenched in pro-communist and anti-imperialist ideas, and by 1920, he was off to Moscow along with the Workers (Communist) Party of USA. Below are some of the posters that Dada could have possibly seen- posters that signalled all what Dadas idea of Soviet Union was, and posters that sync with Dada’s memoirs and what was so special about Moscow in that tumultuous period.

All Flags Will Visit Us

This poster is closely symbolic of what Dada envisioned Moscow as: the capital of the world. It seemed to be a place that welcomed everyone in their raw skin colours and job descriptions, without waging any discrimination whatsoever. The poster is particularly important in understanding why, after travelling a large part of the world, Dada decided to head to Moscow, and how many others, like Dada, were doing the same.

“The changing wind”

The name of this poster is most important for the wind was quite literally changing while taking most people with it, to the Soviet Union. The top image shows a soldier defending the bourgeoisie with the caption “This is who the soldier used to defend”. The second, post-revolutionary, image features banners bearing the slogans, “Land and freedom!”, “Democracy and the Republic!” and “Liberty!” The caption reads: “That’s who he defends today”. This stands particularly in sync with Dada’s ideology for his main aim was to fight the status quo and overthrow the polarised class system in India. When Dada returned to Bombay in 1928, he was seen bringing this poster to life till his last breath.

“Workers of all countries and the oppressed colonial peoples.”

This image can be edited out to morph Dada’s face into Lenins, and the impact it holds might almost still remain the same. Dada, like Lenin, envisioned a free future and one that did not dictate the idea of Indians having to occupy the broiler rooms in ships for they could “bear the heat” or for black workers to be the most exploited and underpaid for the simple reason that they were “black”.



“USSR is the shock brigade of the international proletariat.”

It can be wondered if Dada would choose the entire Indian population or the working class of the entire world. His memoirs suggest that he would choose the latter, for the steering principle of his life was communism and clearly, not anti-colonialism. And hence, the poster above stands very relevant for its calls for the protection of not a single nation, but instead, the working classes of all nations. 

Lastly, here is an edited version of a Soviet poster in an assumption of how Dada might have viewed it. He spent most of his life brining communism to India and bridging the gap between Moscows cohesive diversity and Lahores polarised class system. However, till the eve of December, 1989, he was adamant on believing that the brotherhood he saw in Moscow, with his fellow Soviets, could one day become a reality.

Yeh daagh daagh ujaalaa, yeh shab gazidaa seher

“Baybay jee (mother) was a simple woman. She did not know enough English to communicate with either Abba Jees friends or their wives, and so, she would just sit and smile or use her cooking as an excuse to stay away. Perhaps that is exactly why I was taught English even before learning my Urdu talafuz. Baybay (mother) naal tay punjabi wich hi gul hondi si fir, We would talk with Baybay in Punjabi only.” He then stops to look at the picture.

“Hun tay sab kuch hi baut farak hai, now times have changed. Back in the day, Hindu tay musalmanan di bari dosti hondi si, Hindus and muslims used to be very good friends. Ae tasweer, mera khyaal hai, is from the spring of 1947, this picture, I believe, is from the spring of 1947. Partition da bara charcha si, tay Abba aksar hi janday si Bathinda, milan apnay veeran noon, there was a lot of talk about the partition, and Abba used to go to Bathinda often, to meet his friends. ” 

 

Out of the many people who had no definitive answer for what the coming of August 1947 meant, Rai Hameed Ali Khan, was just one. His father, Rai Sardar Khan, belonged to the village of Rania, in Haryana, where they seemed to live comfortable lives. The rest of their family and friends lived in Bathinda- a place of regular meet ups, and the location for the picture above.

 

“Assi Sikhan naal baray close si, tay ais wastay, sanoon dar nahi si partition da, we were very close to the Sikhs, and so, the partition didn’t scare us. Meray phuppa, Raja Ghazanfar Ali Khan kehnday si k musalmanan da farak mulk hoye ga, magar sanu nahi si chayida farak mulk, my uncle used to say that muslims will finally have a separate nation, but we never needed one. Assi tay khush si Haryana wich, for we were happy in Haryana.” He looks up with a wrinkled forehead, followed by an elaborate answer on what August of 1947 felt like.

“Badi ajeeb hawa si, aur sanoon baut kuch tay samagh hi na aya, it was all so unsettling, that we did not even understand most of what was happening. Menu tay lagda si k assi agay pichay ho sakan gay, agar chalay wi gaye us paar, I thought that even we did move, commuting back and forth would be easy. Rania saada kaar si aakhir, Rania was our home after all. Sataaees (27th) Ramzan si jidon Pakistan alaida hoya, magar assi nahi hilay, On the 27th Ramadan, Pakistan was partitioned, but we didn’t move. Sanooo pata si k das (ten), pandra (fifteen) dinaan tou baad, sab da shauk poora ho jaway ga, tay bas fir- sab wapas, we knew that it was all just a mere facade of ten to fifteen days, and after that, everyone would be back to where they belonged.”

 

Like some other muslims, Rai Hameed Ali Khan, and his family stayed back in Haryana after the partition. For them, the idea of Pakistan wasn’t entirely representative of home- Hindustan was. That year, they celebrated Eid with Dil Muhammad, a friend, and some Sikhs who had come from Pakistan and taken over the homes of those, who had migrated. They celebrated, yes. But not the partition. They instead, celebrated the end of the British Raj. Because for them it was the time for Hindus and Muslims to reconcile- a reminder to what Gandhi thought of divisions in India:

“We were one nation, and so, they (British) were able to establish one kingdom. Subsequently they divides us.” 

 

“Magar fir kuch cheezan kismat wich nahi hondiyan, but maybe some things aren’t destined for us. Raja Jee September wich aye, tay saanu Abba naal wada kar k Lahore lay aye, my phuppa came to Rania in September, and brought us to Lahore. Halaat us wailay tak bigar chukay si, tay assi sochya k jawanan nu pehlay jana chahida hai, tay bazurg baad wich aa jawan gay, conditions in Haryana had worsened, so we thought that we should move first and let the situation get slightly calm for the elders to move.”

“Raja Ghazanfar Ali Khan, my phuppa”, he smiles, while holding up the picture.

“And that”, he pauses, “that is Abba Jee”, pointing to a sketch he got made from the only torn photograph he had of his father.

 

Abba Jee namely, Rai Sardar Khan, could never make it to Pakistan. But his children found their way to the new country- perhaps, a new home. But he remained in Haryana as the political situation deteriorated alongside his health. He passed away later that year without ever making it to the new nation, and now, eternally rests in a land that knows little of either Muslims or Pakistan.

“Kadi kadi yaad tay aanda hai apne kaar, magar hun tay purani gal ho gai hai, sometimes I obviously miss Haryana, but it is old story now. Bari koshish keeti si k Abba Jee di qabar tay jawan, magar kadi halaat nahi changay si, tay kadi visa ni milya, I tried many times to go visit my fathers grave, but somehow, either the conditions weren’t good or either I didn’t get the visa. Magar chaddo un gallan nu, hun tay Lahore hi kaar hai, but forget about all that, now Lahore is home”, he looks up to smile at my 12-year old brother, his grandson, and goes back to sipping his tea.

 

Perhaps history in itself is just a mere story. And maybe all that matters is who the narrator is, and what an incident means to him or her.

For Nehru, August of 1947 represented rebirth.

For Bina Das, it represented an unclear war within and without.

For Gandhi, it represented a change that was still impending.

And for Rai Hameed Ali Khan, it simply meant partition- not the literal sense of the word we use to describe the two new countries, but instead, an uncanny parting of lives.

 

It has been 72 years to partition now, and the memory still lingers on- raw and real. The world certainly did sleep on the night of 15th August, but the question of India waking up to a new life still remains- the question of who this new life was for, who all was to be a beneficiary, and whether the new life necessarily represented a good life.

I sometimes wonder of what Bina Das would have thought is she was still alive. I wonder of all what she would have penned down if she had met Rai Sardar Khan in his last days at a land that signalled home, but also signalled solitude and abandonment, and not the new, independent life that was promised.

What if Gandhi Jee lived just a little longer? Would he have wanted to revoke his dreams of the United India? Would meanings of independence still be equal to partition, or, just like Sardar Khan thought, would Independence signal to the end of British Raj alongside just a temporary loss of home?

But most importantly, the question of individuality lingers. The question of who makes choices for nations? In fact, who even defines nations? Who decides that it is important to move to a new nation even when the older one smells of home?

But maybe, for now, Faiz should be enough in making peace with what awaits:

Abhi charaag-e-sar-e-raah ko kuch khabar hi nahin

Abhi garaani-e-shab mein kami nahin aayi

Najaat-e-deedaa-o-dil ki ghadi nahin aayi

Chale chalo ki woh manzil abhi nahin aayi