The second-class status of women in India...

and elsewhere, is a subject that I always want to blog about regularly and comprehensively, but for a number of reasons, I don't. The chief among these are that other people do it far, far better and that I get SO ANGRY.

When something is a personal topic - when it cuts close enough to the bone to make you wince and panic - it's REALLY hard to write about. The problem of the personal/political thing emerges too, as this is a topic that exists beyond me and yet encompasses my life. I have only recently made peace with my past. I would say that things really turned around in a positive sense about mid-2008 - so yes, it hasn't been long.

I've had it lucky though. I'm a wet, liberal, British Asian. The regretting of my own existence that lurks inside me has damaged, and damages me, but I have been able to find heretics. People who would pull me back to some kind of objective reality just when I thought that 'tradition' would fucking sink me yet. I am certain that a woman of my opinions would go quietly insane in India and eventually kill herself or those around her, then herself. My family have accepted my rebelliousness and unfeminine behaviour in a way that others wouldn't. I CAN COMFORTABLY SAY THAT MY FAMILY WOULD NOT HONOUR-KILL ME, and horrendous though it is that I can be glad of such a thing, I am glad. They've made me cry, they've belittled me, they've made me doubt my grip on sanity - but I have managed to get space enough to see that they do, beneath it all, love me.

To all those people who remind me that it is OK to be me, and that my life is not dispensable just because I am the black sheep third daughter in a family of four children, I must just be intensely grateful for a minute - and I will be for the rest of my life.

Okay, misery memoir moment over. It's time for worthier issues than my own personal ones!

asquith, my favourite Stoke-based person (although he always spells it Sjoke - I may be missing something there?) highlighted this:

Calls for help from victims of forced marriage GOING IGNORED. Sign the petition to keep the Honour Network Helpline going, and also donate to Karma Nirvana, a charity which supports victims of 'honour'-based abuse. Despite being eye-wateringly poor, I am going to donate £20. That should leave me enough to live on for um, another 2 weeks or so... DONE! I would love to actually give them volunteering time, but seeing as I would have to move to Derby, 'tis not a realistic option.


Heresy Corner flags up some unsurprisingly barbaric treatment of a 16-year-old girl raped in Bangladesh. I commented in a fit of fury, but frankly donating time and/or money and signing petitions to support charities that work against HBV, as well as encouraging other people you know to do so, is the best anyone can do.

Walk For India's Missing Girls - a global march against female foeticide. I sadly cannot participate in this as it is taking place in Ireland, Canada, the US and India only (why not in the UK?). Still, it's March 6, 2010 so if you know anyone who lives in any of those countries/cities and who can make it, please encourage them to go while there's still time!

There is now ONE late-term abortionist left in the whole of the United States of America. And this is a nation that considers itself civilised? Fucking terrifying reading for anyone with a brain. Especially if, like me, you fear that we are slowly turning into a smaller, greyer version of America. Just look at the recent news that the rich-poor divide is wider than it was 40 years ago, and the fact that people are less in favour of helping the poor to move on up than ever:

Blair's triangulation was this fabled meritocracy, a feelgood creed where we don't have to be locked in eternal struggle, we just all try our best and end up minted. This took hold – in a study about social equality conducted last year by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, 69% of respondents agreed with the statement: "There is enough opportunity for virtually everyone to get on in life if they really want to. It comes down to the individual and how much you are motivated." Without that (pretty groundless) faith in mobility, many of these newly revealed, hostile attitudes to the poor – for instance, only one in five of us now believes that unemployment benefits are too low and cause hardship (53%, 16 years ago) – would be untenable.

Though - oh, yay! - good, old-fashioned British hypocrisy might stop us from morphing into self-made-men with American-style Dreams in the end:

The unbelievable thing is that, even in this mulch of conservatism, this belief that the poor are poor on purpose, 67% of people still think it is the government's responsibility to reduce income differences between rich and poor. As soon as you put the word "redistribution" in the question, everybody's suddenly against it.

Speaking of America, laugh (or cry?) at a tale of a Texan Christian school aiding Haiti victims by praying for them, whilst a public school 'in a poor part of town' raised over $4000! Oh God, is He merciful...

Some things to be happy about - the possibility of Andrew Wakefield being struck off. I would actually pray for that. Just don't pay too much attention to the parents who are 'standing by him' (figuratively and literally - on TV) because then you'll remember how fucking stupid great swathes of the human race are, and want to kill someone all over again. Also, the increasing anger against our globally embarrassing libel laws - I donated to Simon Singh's campaign against the BCA, and I signed this petition - and if you haven't, do the latter at least!

Now to bed, stinking and in need of a vigorous snog. :-D

'There ain't no way...'

... is the title of a song by a group that I quite like, called Cunninlynguists (yes, that IS the play on words that you're guessing at).

I met with Laurie today in a somewhat soporific afternoon encounter that was hopefully helpful to her (apologies if I came across as an automaton at times - having my hair out AND hot weather and sunlight to contend with, make me akin to drunk).

Now, she is a very patient and intelligent lady who tends to attract to her blog many of the sort of people who I'd frankly just like to sock one in the face. I find it amusing - I think many of 'em have followed her there from Liberal Conspiracy and wait around for her to metaphorically pat them on the head, and then she posts about REAL feminist stuff, and you get 'permanently bewildered' and victim-blaming (see her post, Perfect Slaves?, for example) among other things.

Bizarre, really, since in the main, the comments on other pieces have been largely supportive and encouraging.

Maybe it is 'radfem' of me to say so, but I confessed something to her today. I believe that things are really not going to get any better until the middle classes get their act together and start rocking the boat.

If you read this blog, I am presuming that you live in a Western country. I will say this to you now: live your principles.

LIVE YOUR PRINCIPLES. Granted, there are limits to what we can do, but I am sick of hearing, reading and seeing women and men staying with each other out of pity. Out of fear. Out of sentimentality.

It is VERY RARE to find a dysfunctional coupling where nostalgia and sentimentality don't play a substantial role. I am struck by how many women say that they are feminists, and yet in their home life they end up doing most of the work, and generally giving in...

While I know it's not easy to up and leave, or to dig your heels in - is it impossible? Is it really impossible?

Might you, after all, have the privilege of being able to live your principles?

A while back, Feministing had a post on this, but in a more straightforward sense of 'being privileged enough to educate oneself in a feminist-friendly way.' They also had a very good recent community post, where the notion of 'using privilege for good' surfaced in the comments. That came back to my thoughts today, along with a very interesting F-word post from late March this year. In America, it was apparently found that:

Wealthy families, she said, have tended, with their work-around-the-clock husbands and at-home wives, to have adopted a rather old-fashioned model of marriage, with fixed sex roles. They’ve set the tone, but the rest of the population hasn’t necessarily followed.

Something makes me think that such a scenario may not be entirely inconceivable in this country.

I'm not going to rosily claim that all middle-class people really love the Daily Fail and that working-class people are like exaggerated versions of the characters in Saturday Night, Sunday Morning (which by the way, you should totally read because it is a British CLASSIC, and also because that's how I want to write when I grow up).

The fact remains, however, that the Daily Mail - and the Telegraph, I would say, as well as the Guardian and Independent - exist as sources of information written by middle-class people, for middle-class people. We middle-class people are the source of normativity. Boo-hoo, we have it so hard, etc. Seriously though, I for one do not feel OK with the idea that I am part of that normativity (even though I am) because of my family's economic status, though that may have a little summat summat to do with my race and gender.

To recap though: WE ARE THE SOURCE OF NORMATIVITY. Even little ole privileged I. People want to write about US, the lives we lead, the foods we cook and eat, the money we spend and what we spend it on. That last factor is possibly the most important (ADVERTISING!). Basically, WE MATTER. WE MATTER in a way that working-class people don't; because our 'class' is growing all the time and because of our spending power.

You just can't reduce people to evil or pitiable caricatures when you're trying to coax their wallets from them now, can you?

So, all I'm asking is a very small thing. Though it's a good rallying cry in some ways, I'm not going to say 'People! Vote with your wallets when it comes to shit you don't like.' That involves effort and thinking and nobody likes that nowadays.

Instead I'll say: 'People! Live your principles.' We are economically and socially privileged. Let me contextualise to remind you, gentle reader, of the power you (unknowingly) wield.

In some communities in India, when a man divorces a woman, she is thrown out onto the street. Just like that. Sometimes, as is believed to have happened to a cousin of mine, the woman is married. Then, her husband and mother-in-law (almost ALWAYS that particular team, but not always) murder her and flee with the money/gifts/property rights. My cousin was praying in the house when she somehow got locked in and the building burnt down. Let's not even start on 'honour'-based violence...

Obviously, if you're in an abusive/domestic violence situation, it's going to be different and a lot more difficult. To those of you who aren't, I ask you this. Are you pressured into getting married before sex and living together can even grace your wildest dreams? Will you be ejected from your territory if you break up with someone? Is a lack of companionship and a bit of judgement from Smug-Married friends and hapless-but-well-meaning family (or friends) comparable to being burnt alive?

No. No, it's not. Your incentives for 'staying' come much more from YOU than from outside. Though there is bourgeois influence as well, no doubt. The decision is much more 'yours' than it would be in other countries and cultures. I'm currently in the process of trying to get my eldest sister (now living back with us at home, in case you forgot!) to just hurry up and tell the mofo she's divorcing him already. 'Tis a frustrating task, one that led to me writing an essay on the day it was due and then handing it in with another, which turned out to be LATE by two days (!), earlier this year. I wrote the bibliography by hand, having forgotten it entirely, 15 minutes before it was due. I subsequently found myself having a crying breakdown in my tutor's office while she was out retrieving the late essay...

My sister will be gossiped about by some in our community. Some will be pleased that her marriage failed, and many will now doom her to eternal celibacy as a result of her being divorced at the ripe 'old' age of 32. Benign-intentioned inepts will continue to suggest that she should have 'tried to make it work.' Yeahhhhh. Try to make it work with a man who spouted these gems:

He: I've lost respect for your dad now. He should have asked me before he came to pick you up.
(Translation: I own you).
She: ?! You're lucky he didn't beat the crap out of you.
(And how!).
He: (smirkingly proud) He's just an old man. I would have battered him.

When that particular exchange was conveyed to me (by phone, by my sister herself - a sign of all the progress I've made with her!), I neared tears trying to summon swearwords appropriate to my strength of feeling. Thankfully, because I was cooking, I settled for taking it out on my ingredients. Nothing like a spot of stabby-stabby for Mr. Motherfucker-you-are-my-property-and-you-will-stay-till-I-hit-and/or-kill-you, safely exorcised via chicken.

(Just to clarify: he didn't hit her and there's not very much evidence at all to suggest that he would. While undoubtedly abusive and uncouth, he does not fit the profile of the charming and cunning abuser that I have seen described on feminist websites. He just really is incredibly pathetic, compulsive, childish and deluded. Still not a reason to forgive him and 'settle,' now, is it?!).

People! Just stop and think. You are adults now - if your partner don't split the housework/other duties with you - they don't got your back. Yes, it really IS that fucking simple. You may not have the guts to leave just yet, but think twice if nothing else. Reconsider how much of your life you want to give to something that cuts right at the core of you NOW, and isn't likely to go away.

As the villains of Indian soaps so hilariously proclaim, 'just wait and watch.' You have a brain, you are not just a bag of hormones. The lulls in conversation are a chance to reflect. DON'T SETTLE WHEN YOU HAVE THE PRIVILEGE TO LIVE YOUR PRINCIPLES. That's all I ask of you.

Ladies, in particular: ROCK THAT FUCKING BOAT. Shake it like maracas. Cleanliness and neatness is not its own reward. That shit come and that shit go! There is a time for being adult (it's called PARENTHOOD!), and there is a time to fight fire with fire. If you haven't got kids with a bloke yet, you do not have to give in and do the housework. Talk to him - make him aware of what needs to be done. Give him a little 'guided tour' of the house, i.e.: 'Washing starts here, then is transferred either here if underwear, or here if in need of ironing...' Make a list of the tasks that need to be done, and split it so that it's equal or close enough.

Once you have children, it is GAME OVER on that front. Fighting for yourself will, unfortunately, become secondary. Do it while you can. If you don't, you WILL regret it (unless you get a lobotomy) and then your children will suffer. Hmmm, inconvenience yourself, or give your kids a chance to be equipped to fight the patriarchy? Even if you don't want kids, you still have YOU - ageing, society-and-culture-blasted, frail mortal YOU to consider.

I have, I freely admit, been uber-lucky. The Libertarian was raised in a household where his father did the cooking and the bulk of the washing-up. However, that didn't mean that he shirked on his parenting or housework duties - it was equally split. Once TL was old enough to help out, he got involved with everything from icing cookies to painting walls.

Again, privilege played a part in that arrangement being possible. I accept that not everyone can have it 100% equal. If nothing else though, we can avoid becoming servile. Men going out to work keeps the economy running, but women doing housework and raising children keeps society functioning. House + work = it's work too, even if it's not publicly visible. Be houseproud by all means but don't be a workaholic. Make your partner do what he can. Privileged feminists - LIVE YOUR PRINCIPLES!


Recommended Reading: Who needs two parents?

(P.S.: This is HILARIOUS). I think I am in love with an unopened jar of peanut butter. Gulp.

Totally random aside relating to this post on Cath's glorious blog: I think feminists should perhaps strike back at the men who try to portray their purchasing of sex as perfectly normal. Y'know, like you pop into Boots for a magazine, and then you go down a side street to buy a woman's vagina... They refer to themselves using the relatively innocent term 'punters.' That's what I mean, when I hear 'punters', I think of normal consumers. Not men who buy sex. So let us not let 'em off (even inadvertently). 'Punters,' my ass. I personally favour 'ratfaces' myself, but I know this is both a) unfair to rats b) somewhat unworkable. So let's be having your suggestions, please?

Putting Things Right

A while back, I had a go at Laurie of Penny Red. I feel pretty bad about that now, to be honest. Not that there wasn't some truth to what I said - but really, what was I expecting? That she should be able to represent the likes of me? Of course she can't; and it's totally unreasonable to expect such a thing of her. Furthermore, although I hope she ends up as an investigative journalist (I imagine she'd be super-duper at that!), she can do what she likes in the meantime. The whole thing did perhaps come off harsher than intended; essentially what I was saying is 'you can do better than this' when it comes to some of her writing...

But who made me an arbiter of what is good? Who am I to tell someone else (especially someone who ain't listening, haha) to 'do better'? This - this post right here - is about me trying to put things right. There's a lot that needs to be put right. This v. good and simple post on PR has inspired me to try and begin to do so, if nothing else.

What I was expecting of her is the same thing I expect of myself. To do better. To strive for perfection. To achieve consistency all the time, blah blah blah. As her post so ably describes, we are all prone to this tendency. It is worse in some ways for women, than it is for men. They're not free of it either, though.

I appear to have indulged in classic projection and lashed out at a fellow struggler rather than stopping and thinking about why I did that. Having said that, I do still want her to go on and become a Socialist Superwoman, and I sincerely hope that she won't lose sight of herself in striving to achieve success. That is a genuine warning, because in trying to sell an unpopular cause to people, one can find oneself unexpectedly compromised. Everyone knows that... I am also developing some rad-fem tendencies, thanks in large part to this blog (and the assholes on Cif but also seemingly EVERYWHERE ELSE on t'Interwebz!), and so I got a bit unfair on someone who I felt didn't have to be quite as 'feminist' as me.

How stupid is that, eh? You live and you learn, though, I guess. I think that is true of many Asian feminists though - there is quite a gulf between what they, and their white (middle-class...) counterparts are concerned with. That is nobody's fault. We have to deal much more with really barbaric things like honour-killings, and the pressure of being sandwiched between liberal society (not free of misogyny and sexism for all that...) and conservative families.

For example, Laurie mentions in her post how:

I've just been watching Meera Syal's documentary about self-harm, in which she asks, amongst other things, why Asian women in particular are so very high-acheiving and yet so desperately unhappy - being the group statistically most likely both to graduate with high honours and to deliberately hurt their bodies.

There you go. We have more freedom to work than is still permitted in India, Bangladesh, China et al (though those countries ARE, in some cases, getting better for women...) yet in many cases, our cultures don't sensitively adjust to this. Instead, it is expected that women will work full-time - AND be perfect slave housewives. It's not just the job market, but also the marriage market, we have to grey our pretty little heads over. British middle-class society also still has this mindset in many cases, but not in the same way as the Asian community.

Paradoxically, no-one wants to touch with a bargepole any woman who doesn't have a high-powered degree (that means I'm out of the running, eh?) - think Biomedical Sciences, Accounting, Medicine, Law... teaching as well. Yet in most cases, she also has to be a housewife. Getting 'lucky' involves all or any of the following:

a) Your husband doesn't hassle you about housework (for the most part) and/or sometimes even HELPS (aka my father).
b) You don't live with your mother-in-law.
c) Your mother-in-law doesn't expect you to become her.


Quite simply, you're not allowed to be thick, dark, rebellious or lazy. Given that I am both rebellious and lazy, my mum actually used to mutter: 'Thank God you have fair skin.' My mother has also tried repeatedly to break my spirit, claiming that she's just preparing me for my mother-in-law. Alongside this, she harangued both my sisters to learn Indian cooking (including how to make a full dinner in one go, even though NOBODY I know, us included, ever eats that). Despite both successfully doing so, she subsequently tried to blame all marital problems, especially my eldest sister's, on cooking.

So, my second-eldest sister and I have a lengthy discussion with my mum about how our brother-in-law is a psychopathic abuser, who enjoys publicly humiliating my sister and refuses to either let her come see us, or come to see us with her. This may last 20 minutes or longer. Mother nods agreeingly and even participates. Two minutes later, she is ranting about how it is all my sister's fault, and talking about cooking. (Although she dropped cooking-as-cause after about a year-and-a-half of ongoing strife...)

The thing is: my mum means well. 'Nine times out of ten,' she informed me with a faded bitterness, 'the woman must bend.' It didn't matter that I actually had a boyfriend at the time who cooked for me and shared the housework (at one stage when he briefly lived with me, just before finishing his degree, he was actually preparing every meal and doing all the washing-up while I worked on a project). She had seen what it is like for us Punjabi women, the sham of Sikh equality, and she wanted there to be no hope to so cruelly give way, treacherously feather-light, to betrayal and disappointment.

Despite having a decent boyfriend at the time, I could see myself falling into the patriarchy's tentacles. I sincerely believed that I would never make it to 21, and that if I did, I would find myself in a marriage that would eventually drive me to suicide. How could I continue my mother's cycle, and raise children that I resented? Why would I want to raise another child like myself, plagued by self-doubt and devoured by the family pack?

I was so hellishly afraid of this happening to me that I clung to my now-ex, despite not being happy. The fact that he largely didn't mean to upset me became a handy guilt-trigger, for when I wondered how the hell I could ever love him. I went through my degree, picking up Firsts and even winning a prize. The initial hostility of my family to my education choices gave way to a less-antagonistic but not-much-more-satisfying complacency. They told me 'Well done,' and then would add that I SHOULD be getting marks like that. Their congratulations were always severely compromised by the fact that they neither understood, nor particularly cared, WHAT I was good at. There was also an underlying assumption that what I was doing was not really that difficult or worthwhile.

This last attitude infected me deeply. It birthed in me a painful and schizophrenic feeling. I regarded my mute and detached contemporaries in seminar rooms with a kind of superior hatred. How many of them had been told that they would study English 'over my dead body' by their sisters? How many of them had earned the right to be there, like I had, and were capitalising on it feverishly, like I was?

Even as I felt like this, I kept myself 'humble' by reminding myself always, in a back corner of my brain, that I wasn't doing anything useful or important. But I was also doing French! But I wasn't going into business with it. Even though I hated the French part of my degree at times, it gave me a further edge over the other losers. Were they struggling like I was struggling? Did they have to dilute their favourite subject, just to be taken remotely seriously?

The evidently gigantic chip on my shoulder was carved into deeper by this 'humility' I enforced on myself. One of my best friends inadvertently contributed to it when she joined in with my mocking of other students saying that to those kinds of people, she would say: 'I'm doing SCIENCE, bitches.' I must never get above myself because literature was not essential to the world the way science was. Yet this attitude allowed me to mock those who were fanatically devoted when I didn't understand things - they were out of touch. They didn't see, like I saw, that science mattered more!

Ironic, really. I had tried to take science at A-level, had found it a nightmare (though definitely interesting) and then made a defiant show of taking arts at uni, because other people got to, so why shouldn't I? Deep down, though, I had internalised my family's beliefs and knew that I had failed at perfection. It was bad enough that I was lazy and rebellious, aware of the sexual inequality around me. Now, I had to mess up the career thing too. I was not ambitious enough to reply 'journalist' quick-fire when well-meaning people Qed me about what I would do afterwards.

The one thing that galvanised me above all else, was injustice. Especially the treatment of women by our community. I knew this wasn't exactly a 'career choice' though, and I resented that it was so deeply embedded in my being. I resented others, as just described, because they were normal. I superficially belonged to their world, but behind the facade of shared interests and economic/educational status or political views, lurked That Bloody Awareness. My aunt abandoned. My cousin, believed to be murdered. My other cousin, forced into marriage then deceived and abandoned. My sister, pushed into marriage when she was not, and might never be, ready.

These women were in me and with me, and I couldn't relax and make small talk like normal people. I'm still very socially inept.

[Interlude: My mother just came down because I am STILL up, and when I told her I was writing and that I had to do it, called me 'weird' and said 'You'd better come down to Earth, you're flying around in the clouds.' Thank you, mother...]

I was, and still am, wrong wrong wrong. Odd, and wrong. I'm the lightest in the family. I'm the only one who didn't pursue a science degree. I'm the first child (and until my brother, the only one) to have lived away from home. I'm also the only agnostic, and the only one to date two very 'wrong' men. One, a non-6-foot, non-Punjabi atheist. The second, a 6ft, fair-skinned, believes-in-God dreamboat... only he's a) white b) a historian, with a penchant for reasoned debate on just about everything. Given that my parents like to subscribe to Daily Mail worldviews and a, er, 'Sikh-centric' view of history, it's going to be interesting (i.e., the other day, they were watching a man talking about how Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale was a saint, and totally right to agitate for a separate Sikh state...). If they ever meet.

So ja, I am a spectacular failure. I plan on raking myself over the coals some more in later posts (ooh, what fun!). Even my body is all wrong for a supposed 'Indian' woman. I'm slightly taller than a lot of the Indian girls I see (despite being about average for a British woman), and I don't really look Indian at all. I'm most frequently mistaken for Iranian and Greek, but also Spanish. I'm not tiny and petite and delicate-looking. To quote Laurie again:

I weigh almost nine stone; I have fat on my upper arms... I have d-cup breasts, which I despise, and a tummy which no amount of sit-ups will flatten.

Sorry, Punjabi Sikh community of Britain! Sorry British society! I don't fit either of your notions of 'conventionally attractive.' Believe me, the shops have drummed it home by now that an apple-shaped body is NOT GOOD. I'm not Kelly Brook, and I'm not Freida Pinto either. I didn't trade in my plait and glasses for feathered/layers and contacts as soon as I hit 16. I want to aim for more than a car, a house near my parents and a husband that doesn't hit me. I won't pretend stoically that the guilt and shame that keep us locked into deceiving our parents and beating ourselves up are to be respected or tolerated.

Call me pathetically feminine if you will, call me 'coconut' and 'posh' and whatever else. I will cry in your faces about the fact that I have been, and still am, hurting. No 'put up or shut up.' How about 'fess 'up, or fuck off'?

Cultural Relativism: Fuck It.

As Raphael Saadiq once falsettoed urgently: People! Somebody's gotta tell the truth (ooh-ooh-ooh).

(Except it was more like 'Pih-pul!').

The lady-goddess that is sonia left some absolutely awesome comments on a Pickled Politics thread that radiated so much emotion to me, I almost developed a headache. Hoo boy, it was ugly.

Seriously, she was so sterling, I wanted to print off what she said and stick it up somewhere, to fill my brain full of good thinky-juice whenever I feel tired and slightly insane, like right now at almost 03.22 a.m. as I type, high off of menstruation and wearing a pyjama top over a dress.

Er... anyway. There is a hell of a lot of cultural relativism around these days, y'know. I have noticed it before, but I thought it was starting to become less fashionable, especially given the increasing awareness and condemnation of things like 'honour'-based violence, forced marriage et al. If nothing else, the work of the Forced Marriage Unit has brought about important and very useful changes in the law. It's REAL empowerment - now, if a person is perceived to be in danger, almost anyone can request a FMPO (Forced Marriage Protection Order). That means friends, teachers, lovers - some sort of involvement has to be demonstrated so that it's not just for busybodies to intervene, but it is a life-saving change.

Hence y'see, I was getting some bona fide hope. Thankfully, sonia reminded me that there is work to be done in combatting cultural relativism. She also reminded me, unintentionally, of something I've been vaguely aware of for some time now, yet unable to express.

Cultural relativism, as we generally understand it, 'is the principle that an individual human's beliefs and activities should be understood in terms of his or her own culture.' Thanks, Wikipedia! From what I can see, scrolling down a little, 'many anthropologists began to criticize the way moral relativism, in the guise of cultural relativism, is used to mask the effects of Western colonialism and imperialism.'

Stop press. STOP PRESS - we have the winning phrase: 'moral relativism, in the guise of cultural relativism.'

It is good to have an awareness of the place of a person within wider society, yes? Undoubtedly. As social animals, we live this way by default. A good alternative way to think of it is as context. It's the anthropologists' way of saying: 'Hold up, context. Everything happens for reasons.' This is both commendable and necessary.

What is dangerous, is when this attitude is grossly misunderstood and misappropriated by non-anthropologists. Then, as remarked, we have the wolf of moral relativism that lurks within, all too often. It is lazy, illogical and downright fucking dishonest.

I mean, come on. Let's square the logic of that: 'It is good to understand the importance of context... ergo, I am not going to judge something because it's not 'of my culture.'

What the fuck??!!

I am Asian. I am also British. Indian culture interests me greatly. Let me make a distinction here, which is a necessary one: I like Indian CULTURE. CULTURE, as in music, books, films. SOCIAL TRADITIONS are a different thing altogether. I feel that those can, and should change.

The lazy shorthand that is often used for 'social tradition,' is what...? That's right, you guessed it - 'culture.'

It's probably OK for anthropologists to use the word 'culture' more generally, because they understand it fully. They're aware of all its meanings and applications. We lazy modern plebs, however, are not. By describing a social tradition as 'culture' in this day and age, you are doing something very dangerous indeed. You are saying that it is a product of a society. That people of a particular society produce it, as they would literature, cinema or music.

Does anyone see the flaw in that logic? Timid people, afraid of putting a foot wrong, don't want to pass judgement on 'other cultures' out of fear of racism, accusations of neo-colonialism/imperialism/etc. Yet ironically enough, when you employ moral relativism, you are doing exactly that. You are playing God, you are effectively saying 'I have the power to make a difference here, but this appears to be a product of the people, this social tradition. They obviously want it, because it goes over there. Why should I intervene?'

I am very much aware of the need for collective individual responsibility in challenging modes of thought. However, that doesn't change the fact that we grow up, and enter into a world that is almost always made for us. The traditions of the society I inhabit are hardly a product of my beliefs; they pre-date me, and I choose whether or not I fit with them. So, my choice is already slightly restrained - I cannot make the world as I wish through wishing alone. Do you see the disingenuousness of 'culture-as-product-of-society'-constrained thinking?

This also betrays a deep ignorance and, you might even say, a sense of superiority. If you assume that culture reflects society, you are thinking democratically. You are thinking in terms of your world, where life for the most part reflects art. Where, for the most part, you can behave as you like. Whereas obviously other places aren't democracies. Saudi Arabia, to give a great example. When I say 'superiority,' I doubt that it applies to all people who have indulged in moral/cultural relativism. However, for some this is true... maybe, just maybe somewhere in them, they believe that things are 'like that' 'over there' because secretly, they deserve it. Being inferior.

You may pause to scoff, blowing your tea or whatever out through your nose with derision. I will only say that the depths to which irrational prejudice can submerge itself, would surprise anyone. After seeing 'religious' people frequently damn victims of natural disaster to their fate with the rejoinder that 'they must have done something in a previous life,' I am not discounting the superiority. Remember, if fear is present, superiority is very likely present too. You don't know what 'they' are like. What if 'they' are like you? What would that say about you? Why should you know about them anyway? It's about being the better person... but maybe you are the better person. That'll teach them to scare you with their weird differences!

The worst thing is when you see moral relativism employed towards ethnic groups who are of the same nationality. When people react uneasily to events occurring within their own country, and decide that they won't pass judgement because 'it's not my culture.'

I'm sorry? Since when did we start living in giant, fenced-off glass domes? If we share this country, we share this country. We're all responsible. It would be far more honest to take the apathetic angle, than the relativist angle: 'Frankly, I don't know about it/them enough to understand it/them, so I don't really care.' Relativism is often little more than a blend of cynicism and laziness. Yet it tries to claim some sort of moral high ground for itself, by wearing the clothes of cultural relativism? RUBBISH. Call time on it, now!

Personally, I think moral relativism is generally the defence of those who don't quite have the courage to admit their ignorance out loud. It is a ploy to make oneself look tolerant and liberal; what I really think lies behind it, in many cases, is fear of the mirror.

Because, as any fule kno, we do not live in a perfect, equal society. There is just as much suffering and injustice in 'enlightened' Western societies as there is elsewhere, and things like championing of 'human rights', tolerance and education often happen in spite of, not because of, the majority. If you're Jenny or Johnny Conformist, the sort who blithely laughs at a sexist joke here and there, or occasionally agrees with something 'un-PC' without thinking about it - you are compromised already. Your moral compass is reeling, and you know it. Though we are all, of course, compromised to some extent. You can criticise Saudi Arabia, or Iran, or whatever, but somebody will strike back at you before long. Then, you won't be able to win the argument. No more point-scoring. No more winning, because from then on you live on the knife-edge of sensitivity, always reflecting, always on jealous guard of your newly-discovered integrity.

Unless, of course, you're Paris Hilton.

This, I think, is why Daily Mail readers (and the BNP) hate Islam (and Muslims) so much. They're like kin under the skin in quite a few instances. Both disapprove of homosexuality, both are dubious about feminism (to say the least), both are uncomfortable about the visibility of sex and nostalgic for times past, both believe in the values of violence as a punishment as well as a deterrent... Naturally, this doesn't apply to all interpretations of Islam, or all Muslims. However, the enthusiastic Failite will view all Muslims as though they are derangedly conservative reactionaries, whilst fundie Muslims will view all Westerners as loose infidels. The Fail (and other outlets of the MSM) choose the ad-hominem line of attack for the most part, taking on Muslims rather than engaging critically with Islam itself. Fundies, equally, will disseminate angry rhetoric about over-sexualised society, baby-killers (the Luton protest, remember?) and the like. At the most extreme end, they blow themselves and others up. Attacking, yet again, the person (although in a direct physical sense) rather than the system or the institutions to which they ascribe so much of their anger.

Clearly, a very honest discussion of race, religion and history is long overdue in this country. In the meantime though, I will say this now: things like basic respect for women are not 'moral relativism.' A pox on anyone who tries to make out that they are. The rage over MPs' expenses has resurrected a notion of which I am dearly fond, and which had suddenly slipped peoples' minds previously. Public service.

Public service. What we want from our politicians. What we want the BBC to do. What our libel laws so often work against. There have always been lies on sale, but since Thatcher made it OK to be greedy, things are reaching a serious point. I don't hold Thatcher personally responsible for all that came after her; that would be ridiculous. It must be said though, that by legitimising the idea that everyone can - and should - pull themselves up by their bootstraps, she effectively endorsed a particularly ruthless and isolationist view of others.

Living and working in an area filled with people who originate from other countries - like me myself - I see how stupid and destructive that idea was. No-one's advocating a socialist utopia, but at the very least in a democracy, there must be engagement. Public service, right? The public broadcaster and the public servants should work to reflect the interests of the people?

It hasn't happened. Getting more black/brown faces on, what has it done, apart from give Fail readers more reason to complain? It is 2009 and we are facing an actual threat of increased BNP support here in Britain - in London - even though the National Front was supposed to have died in the '80s.

The truth must be told. History must be laid bare. The BBC can just bloody well dumb down some of it and/or work it into an episode of Eastenders. Put it in as a series of subliminal messages. Put it in the news. Suspend secondary school 'Citizenship' lessons - for at least once a week - and make the truth known. Drive down the fucking streets with a loudhailer and blare it into people's plate-glassed office cubicles.

A party that wants to deport me is looking to gain power. Its London Assembly member has been invited to the Queen's party. ON MY BIRTHDAY. You want me not to take this personally? Too late. I'm sick of the Oppression Olympics. I'm sick of the lies. I'm sick of hearing how other people actually have it worse because they're more thick-fucking-ignorant than me.

PUBLIC SERVICE. THOSE WHO CAN - TEACH.

Thanks to The Libertarian, I am now obsessed with a song about a dove. God, even the short clip of Sonam Kapoor with aforementioned dove is cute enough to make me want to cry.