Friday, January 4, 2013

Swami Vivekananda: The original feminist

By Prema Nandakumar, The Week


Today, we speak a lot about women's empowerment. More than a hundred years ago, a young, wandering sanyasi noticed that the condition of women all over India was deplorable. Swami Vivekananda noticed that the sorrows of women were mainly due to illiteracy. They simply bowed to karma. He dreamt of the day he could change this state of affairs and give them a new deal. He posited a tremendous spiritual victory over the western consciousness by opening his epoch-making Chicago address with “Sisters and brothers of America”. Woman had been given the pride of place even in the west, and it promised a brighter future.
Interestingly enough, even before he spoke in the Parliament of Religions, he was giving talks in Breezy Meadows (Massachusetts) and one of them was to the inmates of Sherborn Reformatory, a prison for women. He spoke highly of Indian women and their heroic past but he was also looking around for ideas to improve their present condition. Was there any hope for the poor women of the land, condemned to illiteracy, life-long drudgery and misuse in a male chauvinistic society? The self-confidence exuded by the American women made him realise that education held the key. Hadn't he seen his sister commit suicide, a victim of sheer obscurantism?
At the same time, on watching American women closely, Vivekananda understood that Indian women should not go in for mindless westernisation. Speaking to a New York audience, he boldly said: “I should very much like our women to have your intellectuality, but not if it must be at the cost of purity.” He never liked the idea of men paying compliments to women, and would not accept it as mere pleasantry. Are women no more than lovely dolls?
“Now the ideal woman in India is the Mother—the mother first and the mother last. The word ‘woman' calls up to the mind of the Hindu, motherhood; and God is called Mother,” he said at a lecture in California in 1900.
At the same time, unless the mother was educated and self-confident, how could she be an ideal mother? That was why Vivekananda thought about empowering women in India in a big way. Born free, he found her everywhere in chains. Even the richest woman from the most enlightened community bowed to societal pressure in many ways. Obviously, the fight had to be two-pronged. On one hand, it was the duty of the enlightened people in the community to reject obscurantism like child marriage and the treatment of widows. “Writing down smritis and binding them by hard rules, the men have turned the women into mere manufacturing machines,” he had pointed out.
On the other hand, women had to work out their own salvation. Women needed to be educated about their rights as a human being so that they would become creative partners in managing a household. To a question about the syllabus for women's education, he said, “religion, arts, science, house-keeping, cooking, sewing, hygiene” and, of course, a thorough knowledge of the epic heroines. For this purpose, he wanted to start centres for teaching women. Daring the restrictions imposed by society, he invited Sister Nivedita to come to India and work for women's education. What she and Sister Christine did for women's education is now history.
Swami Vivekananda's vision in all matters had a rare clarity. When a question was raised on whether educated girls would be able to marry at all, given the conditions of the day, Vivekananda said when good work was undertaken with moral courage, victory was assured: “You have not understood the trend of  society. These learned and accomplished girls will never be in want of bridegrooms. Society today does not follow the texts recommending child marriage nor will it do so
in future.”
And there was also the path of a brahmacharini to become an achiever and be of use to society. Swami Vivekananda had a strong sense of history. He knew that India's greatness down the centuries depended heavily on the contribution of women to society. In spite of a million hurdles, Indian women had a natural turn towards the spiritual and were not unfazed by the sufferings undergone by the great epic heroines. Rather, this was how they had empowered themselves to face life, generation after generation. “The height of a woman's ambition is to be like Sita, the pure, the devoted, the all-suffering,” he once said. Suffering was thus accepted with instant readiness by all our women. Rani Chennamma of Kittur, Rani Lakshmibai of Jhansi, Subhadra Kumari Chauhan and all others who entered the Independence movement, and social activists of today, including women who participated in the Chipko Movement, have all suffered for a noble cause.
So the swami did not want any deliberate sculpting of the new Indian woman. Education would help her re-assemble her spiritual forces. There was no need to order her life. She needed to be given freedom and she was sure to do the right thing, for wasn't she a child of India's ancient heritage that she had guarded zealously through religious practices? Such was his faith in Indian women. Had he not seen Mother Sarada Devi and his own mother, Bhuvaneswari Devi?
A hundred years ago, he thundered to a questioner: “Educate your women first and leave them to themselves; then they will tell you what reforms are necessary for them.
In matters concerning them, who are you?”
Women of India must remember with gratitude this spiritual warrior whose tradition has continued to this day.


The author is a vedanta scholar and an eminent educationist.