When Purvi Patel, a 33-year-old woman from Indiana in the US, left her home one day not so long ago, and took herself to a hospital because she was bleeding profusely, she could not have known the dire future she was writing for herself. She could not possibly have imagined that one of the doctors at the hospital would take it upon himself to decide that she had deliberately tried to terminate her pregnancy, that he would rush out to dumpsters to locate the thrown away foetus and that he would then report Patel to the authorities. She could not have known that she would then be tried for foeticide and neglecting a dependent and (which, as many have pointed out, are contradictory charges) and would end up serving two decades in jail.

One might say that at least Patel is alive, and when she’s served her 20-year sentence, she will be only 53, so she’ll still have a life. One might equally say that no such possibility was available to another Indian-origin woman, Savita Halappanavar, in Ireland less than two years ago, who needed an abortion which doctors would not perform, and who died as a result. In the minds of the pro-lifers, this was the just doctrine of an eye for an eye.

There is much that remains unexplained about these incidents. Why is it that there has been such little shock, horror and outrage at what has happened to Patel? Instead, much of the writing seems to be striving for balance, establishing that the law that has been used to sentence Patel was actually meant for male perpetrators, that it was never the intention of the pro-lifers to punish women who sought abortion; instead, their intention was to save the unborn child.

Well, in this case, that did not happen. Even for women who might be considering abortion as Patel was said to be doing, there’s no irrefutable evidence to show that she actually took steps to do this. Nor was there any excuse for the doctor to take upon himself the search for the lost foetus — but there seems to be little outrage at this gross professional overreach.

Why is it that we haven’t heard much about what was said in the courts when the case was being argued? Further, we could ask, were the prosecutor’s statements any less shocking than those of the two lawyers in the documentary India’s Daughter , who held forth about killing girls who dressed the wrong way?

Why is it that media channels are not rushing to Indiana to make films on this travesty of justice by the courts, and the support for it by the anti-abortionists? I know this is a strange thing to say, but in all honesty it has often crossed my mind since I read about that terrible judgment and sentencing. But just as hordes of international media zeroed in on India, and in particular Delhi, after the 2012 rape case, I’m wondering if we — media from India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Nepal, Palestine, and other countries, shouldn’t be rushing to Indiana to interview people on the street about their reactions to the judgment and shouldn’t we then make films about them. I’m wondering if that did happen, whether our journalists and documentary filmmakers would get permission to visit the prison where Patel is being held, to interview her, and then to show it across the US as our gift to the US. After all, there are a great many of us there.

The Purvi Patel incident tells us a great deal about the way the world looks at itself in relation to violence against women and the way in which it looks at others. Violence against women, sexual violence, sexual harassment — none of these is new anywhere in the world. Recent reports speak of a medical doctor in Yale who repeatedly came up to colleagues and others and rubbed his erect penis against their backs. Despite many complaints he was not asked to leave or held to account.

But there’s a way in which such violence is seen differently depending on where it takes place. We Indians tend to ignore it when it happens elsewhere. I’d like to think we do this because we do not like to sit in judgment on others, but I’m afraid that would not be the truth. Rather, we ignore it because we don’t really care. It’s just violence against women after all, so why bother.

The West — and I use that word with some caution as one can’t really generalise so easily — by and large ignores it when it happens in its own backyard. But when it happens elsewhere, as in a developing country, especially one that wants to see itself as a super power, then ignoring it is not an option. And so begins the rush: the newspaper, the television channel, the art programme, the documentary.

Perhaps it’s time we realised that no matter where it takes place, no matter how it happens, violence against women is a violation of their fundamental rights as citizens, and that is where our outrage should be directed.

( Urvashi Butalia is an editor, publisher and director of Zubaan )

blink@thehindu.co.in

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