One government official made waves recently when she told lawmakers that marital rape could not be made illegal due to Indian culture’s strictures on marriage sacrosanctness; BBC Hindi correspondent Parul Agarwal reports on how this statement deepened survivors’ struggle for recognition and justice.
Rashmi (an assumed identity), who agreed to speak but requested her identity be concealed, attempts to keep her face covered as she described her experience. If people in her community recognize her she fears being forced out from her home as her landlord may recognize them: if so “He will probably throw me out”.
At 25 years old, she is among many who claim they were sexually abused by their husbands but now face an uphill fight in an institution which does not recognize such behaviors as crimes. “He saw me only as something to use on them; when our relationship broke down he took out his anger on me. Sometimes when he would become upset he’d use that anger on me when sleeping with us; no matter my pleas to stay away during periods, nothing ever seemed to stop,” says this witness.
Indian law prohibits anyone from being accused of raping his wife; and public perception in most parts of India holds that marriage entails sexual availability for both parties involved.
India’s Supreme Court rejected Rashmi’s petition to criminalise marital rape as an offense in February, noting that changes could not be ordered solely due to her case.
Rashmi’s background echoes those of many educated young Indian women who married someone they loved but quickly found that issues related to consent and equality weren’t present within their intimate life.
Legal reform advocates emphasize that marriage should not undermine consent between partners.
Pooja, who is also the mother of three, experienced years of forced sexual relations before taking action against her abusive husband in civil courts under domestic violence legislation; although, according to Pooja’s account, criminal accountability still needs to be sought by Pooja for what she describes as violent sex relationships that were forced upon them by him.
Pooja stresses the fact that although she and her former spouse have separated amicably, she does not wish for the two of them to legally divorce each other because that could allow him the option of remarrying after.
Human rights lawyer Karuna Nundy, an expert on gender justice issues in India, asserts that current Indian legislation fails to offer effective remedies to women subjected to forced sex by their husbands. Nundy believes any sexual act carried out without consent should be seen as illegal no matter who initiated the sexual encounters between parties involved.
Statistics demonstrate the widespread nature of nonconsensual sexual acts within marriage in India. One national health survey revealed that around 10% of women interviewed reported physical force by their husband to initiate sexual acts while approximately one-third of men admitted coercing sexual acts on their wives in another large study.
Even with these findings, many victims report facing public stigma for having experienced marital rape; critics of criminalising this act warn that criminalising it would disrupt family structures and lead to misuse of laws.
As Rashmi contemplates her legal battles, she notes that her husband and his relatives seem unaffected by them; yet she remains puzzled at society’s reaction to her willingness to speak out: why must women hide their identities to avoid harassment by male relatives; or else be seen as foolish for telling the world they’ve been sexually violated by a husband?” she asks rhetorically.
