Who got justice in Bilkis Bano’s case?

Social activists take part in a rally in support of Bilkis Bano, in Kolkata on Wednesday. Pic/AFP

I've been trying to imagine the extent of Bilkis Bano's grief upon hearing that 11 convicts who should have been serving life sentences for gang-raping her have been released. I read they received a heroes' welcome, and were offered sweets by relatives who respectfully touched their feet. It feels like a mockery of justice. Once again, upper caste men receive entitled treatment. Once again, a woman's trauma is invalidated. Once again, a member of a minority community is treated as though her personhood doesn't matter. What is the point of having legal systems in place when the people who have been entrusted to care for it insist on perpetuating inequalities? When one considers how complicated it was for Bilkis Bano to arrive at a point where her rapists were even sentenced, which possibly allowed for some form of moving on, the court's action of letting them go free allegedly for good behaviour and in consideration of their age is infuriating, because it sets such a horrible precedent for future rape convictions, and it seems to go against the laws that were set in place that disallow remission for rape and murder convicts.

It is a crushing loss for women's rights, and minority rights. It is an assertion of the Brahmanical patriarchy that has been historically in place and that continues to dominate our present. It is as if to reiterate that there is one set of rules for upper caste Hindus and another for those from minority backgrounds. It furthers the culture of upper caste male impunity, the belief that is held by many that their caste privilege will protect them from the hideousness of their crimes. This is a Brahmanical patriarchal notion of justice; it is invested in promoting the superficial appearance of believing in equality but in fact insidiously proliferates the notion that some people are simply above the law. In what world can it be decided that 14 years is enough of a sentence when one considers the horrific nature of the crime that was committed? Who is being delivered justice in this case? Because it's certainly not Bilkis Bano.

For many generations of women, Bano has been an icon because of her perseverance towards justice in the face of everything. She could have given in to the powers that be and tried to live some semblance of life without taking on the fight. But she resisted all attempts to have her case silenced. She claimed for herself the right to appeal, to fight, to attempt to live with dignity despite the horrible sequence of events that changed her life forever. She still represents the resilience that we wish no woman should have to hold. This legacy will continue, despite the court's insensitivity. She will remain among the feminist movement an icon, someone who chose to seek legal recourse. But it is gutting to think that this is how her story was allowed an end, that she must now live in the light of this fresh hell, knowing that the people who raped her are roaming free.

It brings up once again the issue of punishment by due procedure, and the trap that women and people from minority communities as well as marginalised people are forced to fall into…of seeking legal recourse yet never having the certainty of arriving at justice. This formed the background to the #MeToo movement, this total disenchantment with legal procedure, the fact that the systems feel designed to fail us because they are so infused by patriarchal conventions, so insistent on shaming and policing bodies that were born vulnerable, so loyal to those whose lives are marked by forms of impunity. For all those who didn't have the courage to go to a police station and file a complaint against their rapists, I cannot imagine how this news must settle on their traumatised skin. Are we condemned to have to find ways of healing and reconstituting our selfhoods in the absence of any form of apology?

I want to feel hope, but in this moment, there is only rage. It stirs my insides and makes my blood swell. My only hope, I suppose, is that I am not alone in this feeling. That you feel it too, and there's enough of it to go around that could cause a seismic shift. Bilkis Bano deserves better and more.

Deliberating on the life and times of Everywoman, Rosalyn D'Mello is a reputable art critic and the author of A Handbook For My Lover. She tweets @RosaParx
Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com
The views expressed in this column are the individual's and don't represent those of the paper.