Romance Is Not All It Seems
Rajasthanis are colourful, fierce and open, friendly people. Their arts are vibrant and their craftsmanship is beyond compare. They like their music and their stories loud and lively and they are very steeped in their history.
A big part of Rajasthani culture is pride in what they see as their romantic past. The Hindu Rajputs were the warrior caste: kings, soldiers, loyal staff who fought for their nations from the mighty forts spread across Rajasthan. They tell stories of brave men founding these fort cities, fighting battles and forging alliances through marriage.
When they tell the tales of historical Rajput women the stories are predominantly of child brides being brought to the zezana to live with all the other wives and concubines in purdah (keeping veiled or behind screens and not allowing other men to see them nor speak with them). Despite there being a history of women warriors, the main tales of women’s bravery seem to be regarding jauhar, or ritual suicide. This is what the noble women did if it appeared the men would lose in battle and they did not want to be captured by Muslim rulers.
In some of the audio guides there are glowing descriptions of brave Rajput queens and princesses bathing and making themselves beautiful for their husbands for when they see them in heaven, before they walk en masse into a huge fire with their children in their arms, to be burnt while drums and pipes play. The men then ride out the next morning, after the fire is over, to fight to the end.
It sounds all tragic heroic sacrifice for love, except the women had no choice. The stories make it sound like individual women said, “if my man dies I will follow him and go with no other,” but they were not the deciders. If the ruler said the women and children would die in jauhar, then off they went.
In Jaisalmer there have been 2 and a half jauhars. The “half” jauhar occurred when the men thought they would lose too rapidly for there to be time for all the rituals to be observed. So they quickly slit the throats of all the women. And then they won...
A new jauhar conversation has been happening of late. A recent movie called “Padmaavat” ends with the historic jauhar at Chittorgarh. The main character is based on a fictional heroine of a poem who is the ideal of feminine virtue: she only speaks to her husband, she doesn’t allow herself to be seen by other men and, instead of being taken by the Muslim forces, she kills herself by walking into the jauhar fire, leading hundreds of other noble women.
The initial controversy around the movie was that some fundamentalist Rajputs thought there would be an offensive love scene imagined between the Mughal emperor and the Hindu queen, but that proved to be false. The fundamentalists committed acts of violence anyways in protest and are now beating the drum of these ideal feminine virtues. Oh, the good old days when women knew how to behave properly. They have been getting women to sign petitions agreeing to jauhar, which is based on the idea that being “defiled” by a Muslim is worse than burning to death. There are stories in the media of women being hassled for refusing to sign by neighbours or their families.
As in other countries and times we are seeing the rise of religious fundamentalism leading to a loss of women’s rights.
Some young feminists are very alarmed at what they see happening with this fundamentalism. Their lives are about more than just their sexual honour. They are fighting to become educated and to create an India where women are treated as respect-worthy autonomous people, and a movement that says a good women is a quiet, unseen women who kills herself for honour is deeply unhelpful.