PURITY CULTURE IS A VEHICLE FOR SEXUAL VIOLENCE

By: Priya Buddhavarapu

I was in New Delhi this August when a 31-year-old female trainee doctor in Kolkata, West Bengal, was found half-naked, brutally raped and murdered, on the fourth floor of the government-run RG KAR Medical College and Hospital.

Reading the news that day, pure disgust ran through me. As a woman, I was immersed in an acute fear that lashed at my core every time I roamed the streets of New Delhi in the days after. As an Indian-American, I felt overwhelming loathe towards the culture that I had always known as vibrant and joyous. Perhaps the most chilling aspect of my reaction, however, was my complete lack of surprise as I read the harrowing details of the victim’s experience. 

The majority of Indian women would be able to tell you firsthand about the catcalling, staring, and vulgar body language that they are accustomed to when walking down a local street. I couldn’t even escape this unwanted attention in broad daylight with my dad, a fully grown man. The majority of Indian women would be able to tell you of the rules imposed onto them by their families–don’t walk alone, don’t stay out past dusk, don’t make eye contact with strangers, don’t go out without a specific destination. 

Their daily experiences, I believe, are indicative of a much more threatening, parasitic force preying upon Indian society. From the 1992 Ajmer rape case, where over a hundred schoolgirls were sexually molested, to a more recent case in Thanjavur, Tamil Nadu, where a 23-year-old woman was gang-raped by six men, it is clear that institutionalized injustice against women has plagued India for decades. 

What could be the root of the systemic sexual violence Indian women face? Why does the world seem to hate Indian women?

 I believe the source of the problem is this: India’s sickening commitment to purity culture. 

The term purity culture refers to an ideal, often in a religious and traditionalist context, where a person’s value is contingent upon their chastity and sexual abstinence. In societies where purity culture is prominent, the burden of keeping a community chaste typically falls to women. This also means that in cases of abuse or harassment, women are the ones who are left accountable for the actions of men–whether it be because of what they wore, what they did, or where they were. 

On the other hand, men are held relatively unaccountable, sheltered by the pillars of the patriarchal society in which they were brought up in. They are inadvertently excused from any consequences; hence the burdens of their actions defaults to the shoulders of women. In a world where women are stigmatized, and women shoulder accountability, what might possibly stop a man from catcalling, molesting, raping a woman? Certainly not the fear of facing the consequences of their actions. 

For this reason, I believe that purity culture is a vehicle of sexual violence. 

Historically, an Indian woman’s value as a functioning member of society is contingent upon her perceived adherence to the values of purity and modesty. Her decision-making power over her own bodies, in both a sexual and reproductive context, is traditionally granted to the man who has power over her–her father, and then her husband. Virginity is sacred; sexual activity outside the hallowed bond of marriage is sacrilegious. 

Purity culture, I believe, is also responsible for rape culture. In a world where Indian women increasingly dare to step outside the bubble they have been confined to, the coinciding spike in assault cases is proof of the following: sexual violence is a provoked response to women gaining ownership over their own lives. It is deep-seated, wrathful retribution to the fact that women have refused to exist solely within the roles their fathers and husbands have assigned them to. Sexual violence is an unmeasured, unequivocal response to a deviation from purity culture. 

African Governments Perpetuate Intimate Partner Violence

By: Priya Buddhavarapu

The global average of reported intimate partner violence (IPV) cases is 30%. In Sub-Saharan Africa it’s, 36% and in East Africa it’s 44%. 

IPV refers to abuse or aggression in a relationship, including physical violence, sexual violence, stalking, and psychological aggression. Women in rural areas, as well as marginalized groups, such as sexual minorities, are more likely to face IPV. 

There are three primary stigma components that prevent IPV help-seeking measures. “Cultural stigma” refers to societal norms that put into question the experiences of women facing abuse. “Stigma internalization” refers to the practice of women believing the negative stereotypes about themselves . “Anticipated stigma” accounts for the judgement women believe they will face (i.e. status loss and discrimination). 

However, still underlying these variants of stigma is the perpetuation of “victim blame and deservingness” attitudes. Many victims often hold themselves accountable for IPV if they feel they have violated gender role expectations; have provoked their partners; or feel that they are less deserving of empathy or humane treatment, particularly apparent in racial minority women. 

Even still, other victims lack awareness that what they are experiencing is non-consensual and wrong; it is within the scope of their marriage, they believe, to be treated in such a way. These narratives are only revolutionized by societal stereotypes that IPV is the result of provocation of the partner by the victim. 

Taken together, each of these factors justify the following: when a woman is facing IPV, it is incredibly difficult to seek help. I propose two reasons for why this conclusion is particularly relevant across the African continent. 

First, on average, African nations tend to rank lower on the democracy index than other European, North American, and Asian regions. In 2024, the Democracy Index (calculated by the criteria of the Economist Group) of Sub-Saharan Africa was 4.00,North Africa  was 3.12, while Western Europe was 8.28.  

There also tends to be a relationship between the quality of human rights and a country’s adherence to democratic principles, providing some insight on why women nations with lower Democracy Index scores might face more consequences in pursuing IPV help-seeking measures, particularly when the dominant culture is highly sensitive and conservative. 

Second, rural African women may face even less awareness on issues such as consent and sexual safety; compounded with the conservative tendencies of these rural communities to uphold societal customs and traditions, this may exacerbate IPV and other forms of domestic violence across isolated communities. Furthermore, the lack of infrastructure in rural regions of Sub-Saharan Africa also inhibits a woman’s access to proper reporting networks. 

Thus, due to a lower awareness, societal stigma, and the lack of reporting mechanisms, IPV is particularly grave for the 55%-85% of African women residing in rural areas.

If IPV is a prominent issue across the continent, what, then, stands in the way of government-led preventative measures? 

One argument worth considering regards privacy rights. How is the government supposed to interfere in the affairs of a consensual marriage without infringing on individual privacy rights? This question is particularly relevant for African nations such as South Africa, Nigeria, and Ghana, with comprehensive privacy protection legislation. 

However, in the case of other nations with few established freedoms and low Democracy Index scores, this question seems ironic– why would privacy rights even be of concern? 

The answer might lie not in privacy rights, but potentially in the continuous systemic marginalization of African women. Whether it be through inheritance rights or education policies, women remain at the bottom of the African social ladder, maintaining little access to education, land, credit, and education. If these governments fail to protect these rights, there is little hope that they will address IPV in the near future. 

Thus, in order to effectively combat IPV, legal reform towards the rights of African women must first occur. Until then, our efforts must go towards spreading awareness and changing our own deep-seated negative perceptions of IPV. 

Birthright Citizenship is an American Superpower

By: Saira Uttamchandani

The United States has upheld birthright citizenship since ratifying the 14th Amendment in 1868, which asserts that “All persons, born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States.” While the Declaration of Independence famously claims that “all men are created equal,” our Constitution did not reflect this ideal - it was amendments like this one (the quoted excerpt specifically is part of the 14th Amendment’s Citizenship Clause) that helped our nation live up to the ideas espoused in those famous words.

While the United States is not the only country that grants birthright citizenship, it has become a key feature of American society. However, Trump has expressed his desire to get rid of birthright citizenship for the children of illegal immigrants or temporary residents, issuing an executive order to achieve this. 

Birthright citizenship has helped make America the great nation it is, and to get rid of it would be a mistake. Also, it would not necessarily solve the United States’ immigration issue that Trump promised to address.

The 1898 Supreme Court case, United States v. Wong Kim Ark, established that the “Fourteenth Amendment affirms the ancient and fundamental rule of citizenship by birth within the territory [...] including all children here born of resident aliens,”  setting the precedent for interpreting the phrase “subject to the jurisdiction thereof.” This interpretation was widely accepted and implemented until the 1985 book Citizenship Without Consent, which argued against birthright citizenship in the United States, and that “citizenship should be based on a theory of mutual consent.” Their arguments have surged in popularity with the recent immigration debate. 

Lawyers for the Trump administration have argued that the “subject to the jurisdiction thereof” component of the 14th Amendment does not apply to the children of illegal immigrants or visa holders. Numerous coalitions have expressed disagreement with the executive order, and several court decisions have blocked it. 

An issue with this desire to abandon birthright citizenship is that there is no agreement about changing the Citizenship Clause. Would a baby’s parents both have to be citizens or green card holders? What about the kids of refugees? People have different caveats that they want to include, and there is no consensus, no clear path forward.

There is also the economic impact to consider that millions of babies born in the US (there are about a quarter of a million babies born to undocumented immigrants in the US annually) are deemed undocumented rather than being granted citizenship. The majority of illegal immigrants pay taxes and work, contributing to the US economy. Several experts argue that this contribution is a net gain for the United States. To lose this revenue would hurt the American economy. 

While some of these babies might eventually be eligible to apply for naturalization (and an even smaller percentage will gain such status), most will not. Some of them will be deported, which costs taxpayers money. Some will stay here and be ineligible to contribute to Social Security, get jobs, and a myriad of other opportunities that greatly benefit the American economy. There is also the tax revenue aspect - the United States requires all US citizens to pay taxes. Excluding millions of people from becoming citizens is a big loss in potential tax revenue. 

There is also the fact that illegal immigrants are taking jobs that many Americans are not interested in. An example of this is the farming industry, where undocumented immigrants make up a large percentage of the workforce. They greatly contribute to the American economy, and to lose this workforce would be devastating.

Then, there’s the goal of reducing illegal immigration. Birthright citizenship is not the biggest draw for illegal immigrants - such a migration is most commonly influenced by economic desires, which would not be reduced by getting rid of birthright citizenship. 

To get rid of birthright citizenship would create a host of economic problems for the United States, while simultaneously not solving the migration issue that some politicians hoped it would. It seems clear that this is not the direction the current administration should go in.