Review: Muslim Women And The Indian Parliament

The image of Muslim women in India is often a convincing stereotype of a veiled figure, destined to be silent, oppressed and marginalised. Marginalisation of women is a historical fact, and for Muslim women, the road is dimmer, since the relegation is structural and deeply ingrained. Narratives on marginalisation often become crucial indicators of ‘identity’ for specific groupings. This eventually became so deep-rooted in public imagination that challenging them becomes practically impossible.

Muslim women and marginalisation become so actively intertwined that their disappearance becomes almost acceptable. For this reason, Missing from the House by Rasheed Kidwai and Ambar Kumar Ghosh is a necessary and timely piece. It voices the stories of 18 Muslim women who have been elected to the Lok Sabha since 1952. In more than seven decades of parliamentary democracy in India (out of which five had no Muslim women at all), only 18 so far have been able to enter the gates of the Lok Sabha. 

Objective and thoroughly researched, the work offers three essential perspectives for the reader’s consideration. One, that a democracy does not sustain itself via simply institutions and frameworks, the democratic experience also matters. The quest for political visibility, the path after they acquired the seat, and the consequent rise and fall in their political careers make the work substantive and exceptional. Secondly, discussion on Muslim women navigating the complexities of the public domain while barely having any allegations of corruption, criminal charges, or hate speech, reveals certain standards of their participation rarely discussed in scholarly contributions. The book focuses on their personal and professional lives, highlighting in particular the depth of their involvement. Finally, the work refuses to showcase the attainment of the Lok Sabha seat as the final victory, a finish line or the upmost form of political involvement. It depicts it as merely the starting line for a more inclusive, vocal and deliberative journey ahead. 

Missing from the House discovers the personal experiences of these women and refutesseveral prejudiced and bigoted notions that generally surround the ‘Muslimness’ of their identity. Often used as a means of justifying Muslim women’s disempowerment, the book objectively captures the precise interpretation of the Prophet’s teachings regarding female participation in public life. The perspective that most of these women culminate their religious identity and political outlook as a liberating, not a limiting force in their public and political lives, has been effectively decoded in the text. The understanding that these women felt that they could offer something new, something different to the public discourse, makes the work personal yet enriching. The word ‘participation’ etymologically comes from the Latin word participātiō, meaning “a sharing in”. Missing from the House does exactly that. It describes their share and magnifies these women and their contributions to democratic conversation.

However, the authors in no way have exalted, glorified or romanticised these parliamentarians. What is rather interesting is that the work presents them as ordinary and sincere women who suffered, struggled, balanced family with politics, all while makingchoices that often came at a cost. Their stories make the reader halt at several occasions to ponder over why they remain missing from our political landscapes? Why they are considered to be exceptions rather than the norm? Take Mofida Begum, for instance, the first Muslim woman MP from Assam, who at the onset of the 1962 Chinese aggression, ended up donating her personal jewellery to the National Defence Fund; all while being an extremely vocal parliamentarian asking pointed, uncomfortable questions. Or Zohraben AkbarbhaiChavda, who, although she initially began her career in nursing, slowly moved on to grassroots activism and politics. These are rarely the imaginings we’re used to when we think ofMuslim women in politics - and that’s exactly what the book reveals. 

The book also reminds us that these Muslim women were not detached fragments of their families and religious grouping, which transformed them into parliamentarians. Rather, their private lives, in most cases, defined them. They were wives, mothers, daughters - and eventually politicians. Maimoona Sultan was exposed to both Western education and deeply religious values, a mix which most would find unappealing and inconsistent. Akbar Jehan Abdullah, wife of Sheikh Abdullah, grew up in the lap of privilege, only to choose a partner who was a freedom fighter with little time or no time for luxury. Service to the nation for many such women were nuanced features of their marital conjunctions and family ties.

Missing from the House effectually articulates how the entry to politics for most female Muslim parliamentarians were an end result of challenging, even dire circumstances. Parliamentarians like Rashida Haque Choudhury, Noor Bano, and Tabassum Hassan, steeredpolitics coupled with personal tragedy, while Mohsina Kidwai and Abida Ahmed attempted to establish and sustain their individual careers in the public domain. In the recent years, Mausam Benazir Noor and Mamtaz Sanghamita have called for nationwide attention on matters of labour and women’s healthcare. By also inculcating the controversies, the media presence, the popularity as wide factors of consideration among young thriving Muslim parliamentarians like Nusrat Jahan and Iqra Hasan, the book is indeed comprehensive, and digs deep into the core of their candidature, political success and even future prospects. 

The authors have been able to reveal the serrated, complexity bound, and often painful paths they took to become parliamentarians. Some left their education incomplete, while some slithered into irrelevance, while some reverted back into their private life after a short stretch of political life. Many never received institutional recognitions while the rest were hardly pulled back into politics by their political circles. But the point that remains is that, they were there, a mark was left, an avenue was chartered into.

Kidwai and Ghosh have been able to compose a book that revolves around how politics must not function like a mechanical spring, where bending them into inclusion momentarily may seem like a win. However, the environment that causes them to bounce out, too far gone to return, defeats the larger democratic purpose of inclusion. Every reader who has had the chance to read the work would call it both a historical account and a wake-up call, combining nostalgia with a sense of urgency: to recognise their journeys, to make space for more like them, and to refuse to accept that out of sight would eventually amount to out of mind.

What one takes away, finally, is a sense of opportunity, possibility and potentialities from the book. Muslim women have showcased that they can oblige their families with devotion, empathy, and strength. Why should serving the nation be any different?                                                                                                                                                                                                              

Aniba Junaid is an Assistant Professor of Political Science at Department of Humanities and Social Sciences at Adamas University