What makes women justify domestic violence?

Exploring the psyche of Indian women who have been conditioned to come second to men

Recently, we celebrated as National Family Health Survey (NFHS) 5 reported a higher ratio of women to men in the Indian population. But hot on its heels were some shocking statistics: over 30 per cent of women from 14 out of 18 states and Union Territories in India believe husbands are justified in beating their wives. Let that sink in.

Almost a decade ago, in my early 20s, I found myself pinned against a wall, the fingers of my then-boyfriend wrapped around my neck. He was angry. Why? I had mixed the whites and coloured in the laundry and couldn't stop laughing over the pinkish hue. I consider myself to be a strong woman. And yet, when my partner of six years tried to strangle me, I didn't leave him, not right away at least. I just went to my bedroom and cried my heart out. He never apologised, and I never told my family. It took me three more months and moving out of the country to break up with him. And another few years to realise what had happened. I am independent, travel around the world, have led teams, and am outspoken. Was I really the victim? My memory still tricks me. Did I imagine it? Was I at fault? I can count the number of people I have told this to on one hand, mostly because I was ashamed.

Why women are ashamed to report spousal violence

So why am I talking about it now? Because when Priya Ramani kicked off Me Too in India, my colleagues who faced harassment in their careers were too scared to speak up for fear of losing their jobs. Because 82 per cent of domestic violence cases go unreported as per Hothur Foundation, a philanthropic organisation that aims to help victims of abuse and educate people at the grass-root level. "Women are ashamed to talk about it because they are blamed for the crimes a man commits," says Kulsum Shadab Wahab, executive director of the foundation.

It's something Atikaa Ahluwalia, partner at conceptual jewellery brand Eina Ahluwalia, knows all too well. She recently spoke about her own struggles after being in a violent relationship and taking her abuser to court. Like me, you wouldn't think of her as a victim. "There is a misplaced shame surrounding domestic violence," she says. "Victims and survivors feel shame in having been subjected to it—as if it were a measure of their actual worth rather than the abuser's inherent cowardice." Most often, the reality of the experience breaks down the idea of ourselves as strong, independent and confident women.

One of the most common justifications, according to the NHFS 5, is "if she is disrespecting her in-laws". Most survivors Ahluwalia interacts with say that they hold their mothers-in-laws accountable, "women have been conditioned into becoming gatekeepers of patriarchy," she says. "As a result, the blame, which should primarily be placed on the abuser, is diffused on to women within the abuser's family. This puts women against women yet again." Other reasons ranged from "if she neglects the house or the children", "if she argues with him", "if she refuses to have sex with him" to "if she doesn't cook food properly" and "if he suspects her of being unfaithful".

But abuse needs no reasoning. Last year alone, 2,300 domestic violence complaints were filed with the National Commission for women between January and May 2021, the highest it has ever been since 2000. Lockdown played a key in the escalating numbers. Growing up in Manipal, a top-ranking state in domestic abuse, Angellica Aribam, an Indian political activist working on gender and race issues and co-founder of the Femme First Foundation, a non-government organisation promoting female political leadership, thought this form of violence was normal. Family members would beat their wives for the silliest reasons—he didn't like the food, the wife argued back or even when she didn't. "I couldn't even think of a house where it didn't happen," she says. It was only at the age of 12, when she moved to Delhi, she realised not all husbands beat their wives. Persuading her aunts to file police reports against abusive husbands were futile—they believed they were at fault for the beating.

Add to that financial dependence, co-dependence and a lack of awareness of the law. But mostly, the fear of people's judgement—and there is plenty of that to go around. 'Log kya kehenge' is so ingrained within us, says Aribam, that even the most educated, financially strong women refuse to go to therapy and remain in unhappy relationships when the partner apologises, hoping that the person will change.

Most suffer from 'battered woman syndrome', and "even though they can logically reason that what is being done to them is wrong, they are confused and ashamed about finding comfort in going back to the abuser repeatedly," says Ahluwalia. Moreover, we are culturally, societally and judiciously pro-marriage at any expense, and the further up in the financial ladder you are, the more hidden the abuse is. "If women don't leave within the first year of abuse, they tend to stay on for most of their lives as it gets progressively more difficult to leave."

L-awful and dutiful

Indian law holds abusers accountable, and as per the Protection of Women Against Domestic Violence Act of 2005, women and children engaged in a domestic partnership, including live-in relationships, are allowed to seek protection. This encapsulates emotional, physical, sexual, verbal, economic and emotional abuse. None of these requires proof. Yet when it comes to domestic violence, "cases are usually more complicated than filing a complaint and solving their problem," says Wahab. Especially with children and families involved. "In cases where the husband doesn't get convicted, the woman is at further threat. To some extent, our society is also to blame as it suppresses the voices of women." Society offers very little support in abusive situations, and we isolate them by shaming them—if they leave a marriage, we tell them they were not good enough.

Women who bear the grunt of abuse and still stay in unhappy marriages are looked at as martyrs, says Alaokika Motwane, a psychotherapist. "There's a difference between compromise and sacrifice. We have to teach women that sacrifice will not be tolerated. Instead, we teach them 'beta sacrifice karo, aise hi family chalti hai.' Then what do you think the girl will do tomorrow when she is whacked? She'll sacrifice."

"Since a very young age, they have seen their mothers or other womenbeing ill-treated and marginalised by men. This inculcates the notion that it is okay to be treated badly," says Wahab. But it's not only patriarchal societies that are plagued with violence. States like Telangana and Andhra Pradesh reported the highest number of women who said husbands are justified in beating their wives—83.8 and 81.6 per cent, respectively. Himachal Pradesh, on the other hand, showed lower tolerance for domestic violence from both men and women. "[Domesticviolence] has a lot to do with the cultural fabric of where you are," Motwane explains. If a woman is revered—and not in the way deities are, instead there is equality at home, the sons and daughters are given the same freedom, "women come out of these homes very empowered, wanting to make decisions for their lives."

Breaking the cycle of generational trauma

Abuse and trauma remain intergenerational. "An abusive man will usually have an abusive father or an absent father, and that absent father will have another father who was patriarchal and the system goes on," says Motwane. If someone has witnessed violence or some disruption in their family, it becomes a familiar pattern. When they grow up, they aren't able to understand red flags and subconsciously enter abusive relationships.

Depending on what cultural context the woman comes from—whether she is being told to be servile to a man and she cannot survive without one then "no matter how dangerous a circumstance is, she has not been taught what is healthy and unhealthy," and that cuts through all classes.

When it comes to domestic violence, not every case is a copy-paste job. In coming to terms with my abuse and taking a deeper look at my family values, my brother and I were allowed the same freedom and still are. Domestic violence cannot be looked at in isolation. Popular culture plays a key role—the books we read, the films we watch and the folklore we share. Sexism starts from a very young age with subliminal messaging: boys don't cry, boys shouldn't wear pink. "Popular culture like Bollywood movies for the longest period would just normalise casual sexism," says Aribam. Then there are the textbooks we read in school. "Our education system is tied to capitalism and not self-growth. "It's all about how the child can make money, how the child could survive in the world," says Motwane. History lessons are filled with stories about men's value and courage and women's ability to be homemakers and to be pure and "growing up we didn't really have role models we could align with," Aribam adds. Introducing gender sensitisation as a subject in school is a corrective step towards breaking generational violence.

A change is coming, though, slowly. Many who have seen their mothers go through trauma are choosing not to go through the same. Women, too, are going through a revolution of sorts—women's marches and actively raising their voices for their beliefs are proof of that.

"It's only a conscious evolution within a human being to be able to stop at trauma," says Motwane. "Learning to break those patterns by going into safe spaces of [inner] reflection, therapy, understanding what happened to us, healing from that trauma and breaking generational battles one by one, is the only way. It's a lot of work, but it is good work."

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