Personal essay: From home to Parliament, the progression of communal slurs

In a recent conversation with a school friend, he casually mentioned that when he moved to Bombay a few years ago, he had been told by a mutual friend to contact “Katua”. I immediately halted the conversation to point out that this word, which means “circumcised’, was a terrible slur.

I was informed that this particular school friend (who was, of course Muslim) had been given this nickname in school – more than 35 years ago. He was also called “Mullah”. I had heard that one before. Though I had not been comfortable with it, I had let it pass.

I asked other batchmates if they knew about this usage. They did. One friend who was unaware of this pejorative was, like me, a woman. Another could not recall a specific person being called it but said that it was a term he had heard used for Muslim students in general.

One was almost amused by my reaction and asked why I was pursuing this as it was all so long ago. He accused me of being “woke” and attaching present-day meaning to something that was not “an issue” at that time.

“He didn’t mind us calling him that,” I was told. “Why are you objecting now?”

This was all supposedly in the past and they had ceased to use it after having learnt the meaning of the term. Besides, I was told, it was not just Muslim boys who were called this but it was applied to anyone who had been circumcised.

However, another school friend disagreed. He said that he had witnessed an incident where a junior was sharply told to refrain from using it by the person concerned. He also said that as far as he remembered, it was only our Muslim classmate who had been called by this name.

I checked with a teacher about whether he was aware of this term and how it had been used by the students among themselves. I was told emphatically in shocked tones how he had no idea of its usage in the school. Children can be secretive and hide things from adults when they know they are transgressing or breaking rules. For instance, nicknames for other students (or for that matter teachers) were not shrouded in secrecy and were used openly – except for this particular one.

I then related this incident to a friend unrelated to my school who thought I should speak with the person concerned to understand how they felt about the nickname they had been given. To me, that was immaterial. It is not up to a particular victim to say if they felt violated or not. We have all been guilty of using inappropriate terms during our childhood and it does not serve any purpose to go back to check whether someone was hurt by us for using the term – we now know not to use these anymore.

Our Muslim classmate’s nickname was bestowed on him before the Ram Janmabhoomi agitation in the late 1980s, when this word was articulated in public with threatening vehemence by Bajrang Dal activists.

That was when the word was weaponised. Which makes it clear that this was something that my schoolmates heard in their homes.

It was a slip of the tongue by the friend who used it and who was comfortable speaking to an old and close friend. The reason this troubles me today is the ease with which subsequently this was brushed aside. It was not okay then and nor is it okay now. It may be that my friends were not aware of the full connotation of what they said but it is clear to me that since this slur was used outside of the hearing of the responsible adults as well as other students like myself they were aware the usage could get them into trouble.

Their usage may not have been vindictive or malicious but they knew and had an awareness that it was a hurtful term and not to be used in public or polite society.

Words carry meaning and power – they can be used to silence, alienate, and other as well as hurt. It is incumbent on us to acknowledge how certain terms we may have unconsciously used as children are today not acceptable.

I feel it is important we recognise that such slurs, especially against Muslims, are commonplace even among our middle classes and elite and not a recent phenomena. We had all studied in a very elite co-educational boarding school. It is not just the lumpen Bajrang Dal or “gau rakshaks” who uses such abusive terms but also it is prevalent in our own homes. There has been a slow progression from our own domestic spaces to the public sphere and now it has become so commonplace that we do not blink or protest when we hear it used even in Parliament.

Radha Khan occasionally writes on socio-cultural and development issues that interest her.

Also read:

Ramesh Bidhuri and the descent of India

Danish Ali urges PM Modi to condemn Ramesh Bidhuri’s communal tirade against him, seeks security

What legal consequences could BJP MP Ramesh Bidhuri face for using communal slurs in Parliament?