George Mathew on the twenty years of panchayati women
IT IS 20 years since the 73rd and 74th Constitutional Amendment Acts were passed by the Parliament. They got translated into the law of the land on April 24 and June 1, 1993, respectively. This was a historic moment in the history of this country because these two amendments constituted what could be termed as post-Independent India’s most revolutionary exercise in democratic decentralisation and devolution of power. What gave these laws even more relevance was the fact that they mandated one-third seats in all local governments would be reserved for women.
For me, the biggest significance of women’s reservation was that it unlocked the power, talent and commitment of millions of women for the progress of society and the country. Women who had earlier not stepped outside their homes could now participate as equals in the public space.
The idea of reserving seats for women in panchayats was introduced for the first time when Ramakrishna Hegde became the chief minister of Karnataka through the Panchayati Raj Act of 1985. Hegde, along with his minister for Rural Development and Panchayati Raj, Abdul Nazir Sab, made sure that 25 per cent seats in panchayats and municipalities were reserved for women under the law. I remember at that time there were fears that women would not come forward to fill these posts. Yet, when I went to observe those elections, I discovered that for every seat reserved for a woman, there were at least three contestants!
The initiative proved so successful that when Rajiv Gandhi came to power, he wanted to do one better and reserved not just 25 per cent but 30 per cent of seats for women at the panchayat level. Later, when V.P. Singh introduced the Panchayati Raj Bill, he advocated 33 per cent reservations for women. Then came Narasimha Rao. As prime minister, he saw that “reservations for women should be one-third of the total number of seats” in all local bodies. In 2005, when Nitish Kumar became chief Minister of Bihar, his dream was to give 50 per cent reservation for women, which became a reality in the following year. The United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government, wanting to appear women-friendly took a Cabinet decision in 2010 to make it 50 per cent nationally but the Parliament has not yet amended the existing Acts. However, today 15 states have followed Bihar.
I remember the first panchayat election that took place after the law came into being. It was in Madhya Pradesh and the chief minister of the state at that time was Digvijaya Singh. It was very inspiring to see a state that was among India’s poorest, taking the lead on this process, beating even its so-called advanced counterparts like Kerala and Tamil Nadu. The year was 1994 and the mood was rife with expectations. But those elections and the following years were marred in my mind by the violence that accompanied them. Sometimes the women who stood for office were actually stripped naked by forces that just could not accept the idea of women taking positions of leadership. For centuries these very forces had ensured that women were not allowed to come out of their homes. Now that they did, they wanted to intimidate them, punish them, drive them back into their homes. Then my concern was: “Panchayats at work what it means for the oppressed” (EPW July, 1996).
Because of interventions from enlightened citizens, these attempts failed. There were also wonderful instances of genuine women’s empowerment, even from the very earliest days. I remember Geeta Rathore of Jamonia Talab gram panchayat in Madhya Pradesh’s Sehore district. In the early nineties she had been elected sarpanch from a reserved seat, but in the year 2000 she repeated this feat – this time from a non-reserved seat. That she could do this testified to her personal growth from being a shy homemaker to a community leader in every sense of the term, working hard to change the face of her panchayat and ensuring the well-being of its people. She was able to renovate water tanks, build a school building, construct village roads, get people to plant trees – and even fight domestic violence.
Tamil Nadu was one of the states that delayed the local government elections. It was in 1996, when M. Karunanidhi became chief minister that the elections were held. One particularly inspiring woman who was successful in being elected as Councilor of Madurai Corporation was K. Leelavathi. She came from the weavers’ community and was very conscious of the real needs of the people. Water shortage was a huge problem in her area and even after pipelines were laid, no water came through the taps. This meant that even the poorest of the poor had to pay for water, which was being supplied by the local mafia who ran water tanker services. Six months after she was elected, Leelavathi’s efforts to get water for her locality bore fruit. When water gushed through the taps, there was widespread delight, even dancing. But she had, in the process, obviously alienated a powerful section. Next day morning, when this woman stepped out of her home to buy provisions, six people came with sickles and killed her on the spot.
I remember taking a train to Madurai to understand why this had happened. I then realised that social change has both a conflict and an evolutionary dimension. When radical change bring women like Leelavathi to the forefront, it is inevitable that there will be resistance – often leading to bloodshed. It is the price that is often demanded for the transition we make to a more humane and evolved society. I later anchored a film on the Madurai incident. It was called, ‘Swaraj: The Little Republic’, and it went on to win the President’s Gold Medal.
But with all its challenges, the 73rd Amendment proved to be a catalyst for change. Today 1.2 million women are making their entry into public life every five years breaking barriers of class, caste and culture. Initially, they may have depended on the men within their families to help them, but this trend too has changed in many parts of the country with women showing the ability to discharge their duties as public representatives.
Many significant social interventions have taken their cue from panchayati raj. For instance, the idea of gender budgeting, where the component for women in budgetary allocations is clearly demarcated, emerged from this very process. But what I consider its single biggest impact is that it has been able to send out a message to every family – and there are at least 300 families in every panchayat – that women are equal to men.
This amazing empowerment of women at the grassroots is still a work in progress, but it can never be reversed. The floodgates have opened; they cannot now be shut again. Today, the old cry – from Gram Sabha to Lok Sabha – is ringing in the air. Going by the experience of the last 20 years, women will continue to emerge into public space in ever rising numbers, even in the face of resistance and hostility. They will not give up and, finally, I have no doubt that they will march in full force into state assemblies and Parliament. (WFS)
