As Sabarimala reopens doors, women journalists who were harassed for reporting from the scene, speak out

Amid the ongoing Sabarimala row — as the temple reopened its doors on 5 November, the second time since the Supreme Court verdict permitting women’s entry — an ‘appeal’ began doing the rounds of media houses. Circulated by the Sabarimala Karma Samithi, the missive urged news outlets not to send female journalists to cover the _yatra_ . Practical advice? Not so much. More a veiled, misogynistic threat. What Karma Samithi was actually saying was: “Send women reporters at your own risk. If they are injured, we are not responsible. Blame it on the hurt sentiments of the devotees.” [caption id=“attachment_2988914” align=“alignnone” width=“825”]  Sabarimala temple. Image courtesy ayyappaseva.org[/caption] Republic TV’s south India bureau chief Pooja Prasanna unwittingly became the “face” of the intrepid women journalists who reported on the Sabarimala pilgrimage when the temple was opened briefly for the Mandala Puja last month. Visuals of her car being destroyed by violent ‘devotees’ as she pleaded with the crowd to let her go made for prime time news. Sabarimala re-opens latest updates: Kerala HC directs govt to allow all devotees and media inside temple, says 'don't interfere' Like Pooja, every female journalist who had been deputed to cover the temple’s opening was harassed and forced to return. The police — meant to protect these journalists — were unprepared for what unfolded, and in most cases, could only watch helplessly on. Pooja Prasanna felt the cops may have pleaded helplessness because they intrinsically agreed with those protesting women’s entry into Sabarimala. Perhaps they felt outsiders were interfering with long-practiced traditions. Pooja recalls telling a policewoman how surprised she — a veteran of conflict situations — was, by the mob’s aggressiveness. Pooja says the policewoman replied with: “That is the power of Ayyappa. He will give his devotees strength to protect him.” Pooja does not believe the attack on female journalists was a spontaneous outburst of devotees. When her car was vandalised, no one came to her rescue. Finally she was forced to get out of the vehicle, apologise to her attackers, and explain that she was there only to do her job — not enter the temple. Another woman journalist (name withheld) who was on the scene said locals seemed to believe media houses had deliberately sent female reporters to cover the story, to engineer some sort of coup by having hem enter the temple premises. They didn’t accept that women had been deputed because news organisations felt they would be more empathetic to female pilgrims. It’s unclear if things would have de-escalated if the female journalists had been given a chance to explain their presence. Instead, the situation worsened as a New York Times journalist (a woman) nearly entered the temple under heavy police escort, fortifying locals’ view that female reporters were trying to ‘break tradition’ and push their way into Sabarimala. The rioters, on the verge of exhaustion, were galvanised once again to push back. Under this fresh onslaught, the reporter turned back. Nearly all the women journalists I spoke with, told me their only intention had been to cover what was a historical moment for Sabarimala. They were respectful of the pilgrims’ faith, and felt they might be able to provide a different perspective to the reportage. In a way, the attempt of some women journalists and activists, to enter the temple with police protection, was a disservice to their peers who had a grueling time warding off the mob even as they tried to complete the task they had been assigned: file a news report. “The problem was, we became the story,” says Pooja Prasanna. “This was not how it should have been. We were not allowed to explore any aspect of the pilgrims’ trek. So the purpose of sending women to get a different perspective was lost. If we go back today, we are all ‘known’ faces and are more vulnerable to attack. This is even truer for women journalists from Kerala who can be recognised on the streets.” Meanwhile, the Network of Women in Media, India (NWMi)  issued a strong statement against the Samithi’s ‘interference’. Significantly, they noted: “It is significant that (the Samithi) places the onus of ‘maintaining peace and harmony at the holy shrine of Sabarimala’ and not aggravating the situation, on the media. As a joint platform made up of organisations opposing the entry of women and trying to ensure that the Supreme Court’s judgement cannot be implemented, it is they who are in a position to ensure that the protest remains peaceful and violates neither the fundamental rights of female devotees who wish to worship at the temple, nor of female reporters who wish to cover the story.” “Editors must not allow veiled threats from various organisations to determine how the media goes about its duty to report on events and processes about which citizens have a right to know,” the NWMi has said, further requesting all media houses to “refuse to entertain such misogyny and to deploy the best journalist for the job, not limiting the choice to men”. The incongruity here is that women journalists who have fought their way into the male bastion of journalism, established themselves over and over again while covering critical and dangerous situations, are now being asked to go back because devotees whose “sentiments may be hurt” could harm them. Is this because the police cannot or will not be able to provide them the security they need while they go about doing their jobs as professionals? A young woman (name withheld) who had reporting from Sabarimala during the fracas had a practical opinion. “It would make sense for media organisations to send male journalists,” she said, adding, “It is not just about the safety of the journalists themselves, it is also about the equipment and crew. If the woman (reporter) cannot go anywhere near the temple, then productivity is nil.” There remain several unanswered questions: what is to prevent a female journalist from entering the temple as a devotee? How will the age of the woman or her intent be verified? Doesn’t the violence perpetrated around the temple’s environs violate its sanctity far more than the presence of a woman could? It is helpful to remember that Kerala threw open the temple gates to Dalits long before other Indian states. This too was done under stiff opposition from those who felt that the break with tradition would be calamitous… that the temple’s ‘glow’ would be lost. Nearly 80 years have passed since that development, and none of this has come to pass. Maybe there is an important lesson to be gleaned from that.