Partition Experiences of the East Bengali Refugee Women

Women’s experience of the Partition is marked by large scale rape, abduction and forced marriage. It has received special attention of several scholars over the last few years, particularly since the 1990s. They have tried to understand the women’s experience of the Partition in terms of gender and patriarchy. Patriarchy constructs women in a peculiar way—her respectability is confirmed to the degree to which she is able to retain her sexual purity, her sexuality is a threat to her; her body is not her own, and it is not only the question of her own honour, but also that of her family and community. She is the repository of her community’s honour. Therefore, in a situation of conflict rape becomes a symbolic form of dishonouring the community. And it was so at the time of Partition too. It is interesting that both the rival communities shared the same patriarchal conception of rape. The honour paradigm of the rape culture was no less harmful to the women than the actual physical violence. Rapes were accompanied with large scale abduction and forced marriage. It was on the bodies of women that the new national border was marked out; the edifices of the two nation states in South Asia were constructed.

In 1993, Ritu Menon, Kamla Bhasin, Urbashi Butalia and Karuna Channa initiated a new kind of research on Partition experience from the perspective of gender. Their focus was primarily on the sufferings of the Punjabi women in the aftermath of Partition.¹ Later Urbashi Butalia rightly pointed out a serious gap in the historiography of Partition – the omission of the experiences in Bengal and East Pakistan (Bangladesh), which, in her opinion, required detailed attention in their own right.² Thereafter, initiatives were taken to reconstruct the Partition experience of the Bengali women, particularly the Bengali Hindu women.³

The Silence of Marichjhapi

“Millions of babies in pain
Millions of mothers in rain
Millions of brothers in woe
Millions of children nowhere to go”

—Allen Ginsberg (September on Jessore Road)

Transnational migration is experienced as a double loss — of origin and of reality; a ‘hyperreality’, as it were.  The representation of identity is, therefore, an ongoing process because immigrant identities are continually being transformed by the journey, their subjectivities being recomposed in ‘different practices and sites of experience’. Thus ‘home’ itself may be experienced in movement and has come to be conceptualized in fluid terms. The immigrants’ experience of the present is coloured with a persistent desire for return, a sense of deep nostalgia for their homeland.[1] Therefore, when thirty thousand migrants from Dandakaranya reached the small island of Marichjhapi to the south of Kumirmari of Sundarbans in April 1978, their primary desire was to settle down to conceptualize carefully what could be called ‘home’ in an altered reality.  The otherwise self-sufficient community life that took birth without the cooperation of the midwife named State could not, however, survive the rage of the establishment post 1979. It was then that Marichjhapi was successfully annihilated; silenced beyond a murmur.  This piece of semi-academic work shall try its best to document that voice of Marichjhapi before the silence. Marichjhapi, unfortunately has not been as well documented as Nandigram or if we look beyond national boundary, the Nazi Holocaust. However in recent times, owing to the persistent efforts of a fraction of the academia and intelligentsia like Ross Mallick, Annu Jalais, Tushar Bhattacharjee, Mahasweta Devi, Sunil Gangopadhyay and Jagadish Chandra Mandal, Marichjhapi has received a voice. Needless to say I have heavily relied on the available materials and documents to ponder why Marichjhapi Massacre happened and why Marichjhapi is still shrouded in silence.