Time is up

The last week has been difficult for all women in Pakistan. It has reinforced what we already knew deep down, that we are alone and even those whose duty it is to defend and protect us would rather indulge in policing our behaviour.

It’s telling that no Capital City Police Officer (CCPO) has ever told the victim of a robbery to double check their locks. Or the victim of a kidnapping to be more aware of their surroundings. Women’s bodies and sexual violence against women, however, seem to open the field of discussion. Everyone is allowed to have an opinion. There is a general refusal to believe that women are faultless – she should have checked her petrol, taken the more popular GT Road and not travelled at odd hours of the night.

An overwhelming number of men on social media took to their keyboards in anger after the rape made national news. “These are not men - they are animals!” “This is not what our religion teaches us!” – numerous posts circulated, accumulating likes and widespread agreement. A whole spate of tweets and Instagram posts all followed one basic pattern: they treated the rape as a lone violent incident, rather than the result of a deeply embedded rape culture.

Many feminists and human rights activists have highlighted how dismantling this pervasive culture is the stepping-stone to an equal and just society. Performative exercises such as demanding public executions do nothing to address the real issue.

Rape culture consists of an environment that normalises, excuses and justifies sexual violence against women. This culture is underpinned by: (i) victim blaming; and (ii) patriarchal ideas of men being dominant and women being considered inferior. Rape culture manifests itself in several ways; acknowledging and identifying it is central to defeating it.

Aurat March has been at the epicentre of attacks and one of the key victims of this culture. The idea of thousands of women mobilising and advocating for their rights directly confronts the patriarchal structures that shape our society. Aurat March made religious and right-wing groups so outraged and uncomfortable that they organised their own Haya March to counter it.

Men disagreed not only with the content of Aurat March, but with the way the content was expressed. “Mera Jism, Meri Marzi” was a slogan that catalysed endless criticism and vitriol. Women cannot refer to their own bodies without being called crude, and yet every insult that men hurl at one another in Pakistan centralises violence against women.

The honour of a man, from when his classmates begin to learn abusive words, resides in the body of his mother or his sister. His own body, of course, isn’t the subject of communal discourse and conversational violation. Nor his fathers, nor his brothers. Language reinforces what every woman knows to be true – men consider us their property. Theirs to defend, theirs to ravage. When a woman happens to take agency over her own body, she is shunned and called every disgusting name in the book.

Recently, a petition was filed by a large number of media persons against the constant attacks on female journalists. The petition stated that these attacks included gender-based and sexualised abuse against female journalists whose views and reporting were critical of the government. Women are not allowed to express their opinion or do their jobs without being the subject of persistent abuse.

The campaign against women was so ruthless that in certain cases, photos and videos of female members of male colleagues were leaked on social media. This supports the notion that female family members of male journalists are considered easier targets than the men themselves. People know that the most trouble-free way of getting a man to back down is by threatening the women in his life.

Another symptom of rape culture is victim-blaming. This extends to people giving women tips on how not to be raped. By placing the blame onto women’s clothing, their preparedness, and their decision-making, society deftly avoids holding male perpetrators of violence accountable. The all-too-common mantra ‘boys will be boys’ allows men to assume that their actions are inherent to their gender rather than a learnt set of violent and misogynist behaviours. It begins at a young age when we teach girls to ignore or dismiss the aggressive behaviour of boys and ascends all the way up to a CCPO officer listing ways a woman could have avoided being raped. Women cannot self-defend or cover their way out of gendered violence.

The government of Pakistan has failed its women. It has failed to condemn the rampant sexual violence against women loudly and unequivocally. The CCPO is a government appointed officer and they must take responsibility for his words. However, the attitude of the government can be gauged by the fact that a senior minister went on national television and stated that while the CCPO’s remarks were unnecessary, they did not constitute grounds for removal. To date, the prime minister has not commented on the motorway rape or the CCPO’s remarks. The silence is deafening but not surprising.

Last Saturday, there were nation-wide protests demanding the immediate resignation/dismissal of the CCPO. There were hundreds of protestors, predominantly women, outraged and chanting freedom slogans.

For a fleeting moment, standing on the streets in solidarity with other women felt empowering. Time is up and women will no longer be silenced or brush aside constant abuse. We will continue to fight for our freedom, for equality and for our rights. Even though, on most days, it seems like the battle is already lost.

The writer is a law student.