Children of a Lesser God

Eunuchs have been part and parcel of South Asian culture and at one time commanded respect for the power associated with their position in the palace. In today’s Pakistan, print and electronic media make mention of hijras only when the purpose is to evoke laughter, except for an occasional report on health issues of sex workers, or some feature on their lifestyle. In an urban mind’s eye, they are little more than funny objects with comical mannerisms and dubious sexual identity. Have they any choice in the matter of their lifestyle invokes little concern.

Last week, a number of eunuchs holding placards gathered in front of the parliament building to protest against the excesses of their leader, Bobby Guru. According to them, Bobby subjected young men to forced sex conversions and imposed an extortion tax on around 2,500 eunuchs working in the twin cities of Islamabad and Rawalpindi. This was the first incident of its kind when the members of this community took recourse to street protest to register their grievances with the sovereign parliament that deliberates on the status of the citizens. The vibrant group chanted slogans and sought the protection of parliamentarians and human rights organisations. Interestingly, they also made it a point to support the debate on the Hudood laws in parliament (The Post, September 16), thereby making a strong political statement.

Cultural descendents of the eunuchs of the Mughal court, most hijras today earn their living as prostitutes, beggars or dancers. In palaces, their physical proximity to the monarch, even if they were employed for menial tasks, such as keeping guard of the harem, conferred on them great power since they had the ‘the ruler’s ear’. They were trusted as advisors to the kings, because they did not pose the danger of starting their own dynasty for being unable to reproduce. Throughout history, in the subcontinent, China, ancient Greece, the Ottoman Empire and Rome, this community enjoyed a distinct social, cultural and religious status.

Pakistan’s cities have sizable hijras communities, but it is uncertain in which category the state places them. Most are born apparently male, but some may be inter-sex (with ambiguous genitalia). They are described, and describe themselves, as the ‘third sex’ (Butalia, Urvashi, The Third Sex (View from the South), New Internationalist, October 2002). They live in close-knit communities with defined family structures presided over by a leader (guru). “Becoming a hijra is a process of socialisation into a ‘hijra family’ through a relationship characterised as chela (student) to a guru (teacher), leading to a gradual assumption of femininity. Stereotypically each guru lives with at least five chelas; her chelas assume her surname and are considered part of her lineage. Chelas are expected to give their income to their guru, who manages the household. The culmination of this process is a religious ritual that may include castration” (Wikipedia). Not all hijras undergo castration, but those who bravely go for it and survive the crude, back-room sex change operations — referred to by hijras as nirvan (rebirth) — attain a higher status in eunuch society. But outside this circle, they have little place.

Those who willingly choose to live on the margins of society with a very low status make a great statement of courage. Apart from natural orientation, part of the answer could be traced to extreme poverty, lack of opportunities, and a sense of rootlessness among the youth. The plight of those born with a confused identity is even worse, for they have little choice, if at all. Who knows how many of them long to seek education or enter some profession to lead a respectable life, but find no opportunity.

It is not surprising what professing a different sexual orientation could mean for this community in daily life. “Violence against hijras, especially hijra sex workers, is often brutal and occurs in public spaces, police stations, prisons, and their homes. As with transgender people in most of the world, they face extreme discrimination in health, housing, education, employment, immigration, law and any bureaucracy that is unable to place them into male or female gender categories. One hijra reports waiting in the emergency room of a hospital for hours while medical staff debated whether to admit her to the men’s or women’s ward” (Wikipedia).

The social order feels threatened whenever any suggestion contrary to the existing perceptions is made. We, as a society, have developed tolerance for the physically handicapped and agreed to bring them into the mainstream by creating opportunities for them in education and job placement. But we have little recognition for anybody other than the perceived notion of ‘man’ or ‘woman’. Our attitudes towards eunuchs are hackneyed, and are reflected through various layers of social thinking from the highest decision making quarters down to the common man. Neither the Constitution nor any other government institution mentions or recognises their existence. Within the state, their status is undefined. If one’s memory serves right, sometime back a news report stated that a eunuch had moved a petition through an eminent human rights activist, Asma Jahangir, seeking to define the status of eunuchs under the law. The petition could not reach its logical conclusion for not being pursued properly.

In neighbouring India, this community has been far more active politically. Some prominent and articulate eunuchs have made it to public office through popular support. Shabnam Mausi became the first member of this community to be elected to the Madhya Pradesh legislature in 1999. Since then there has been a wave of eunuchs entering politics. In 2000, Asha Devi won the election of mayor of Gorakhpur, bordering Nepal, with a huge margin. The election campaign of these individuals mainly focused on the inability of politicians to deliver due to corruption. On our side, there has only been harassment and oppression at the hands of the state. It may be remembered that in 2003, on the directives of the MMA government, the Peshawar city police conducted raids to make the eunuch community wind up its entertainment business of dancing and singing for being ‘un-Islamic’. So where do you push them then?

It seems no one has ever thought of bringing them into the mainstream. On getting encouragement and support, like any other individual, they could make their mark through hard work and dedication. Although we have our own sub-culture of what society considers deviance among our young lot at colleges, there is little evidence if any parallels could be drawn with the counterculture of eunuchs. In our fashion industry, there are men who display feminine characteristics in their social behaviour and are yet regarded as perfectly normal. Having been born into privileged backgrounds, they can get away with their ‘anomalies’. But what about the less privileged? What choices do they have? They are not allowed to have any identity other than being a eunuch.

It is society that has made them outcasts and untouchables. We need to think of them with compassion. Concerted efforts such as mass sensitisation campaigns could help in changing general attitudes and creating space for their participation in society. Measures such as encouraging their admission to special education institutions could pave the way for their acceptance and absorption in suitable professions.

We have many to speak up for the rights of the disadvantaged — the old, the poor, children, women. People with confused sexual identity have no voice; nor any defenders to speak for their human rights. Nor do they have an audience except for the street crowd gathered to watch their suggestive dance. This, when the Constitution of Pakistan states: “There shall be no discrimination on the basis of sex alone” (25 (2)).