Pengajian Gender untuk Semua #1: Pengenalan kepada konsep ‘seksualiti’ dan Queer Theory

Seksualiti merupakan satu perkataan yang secara lazimnya dihubungkaitkan dengan hubungan seks antara lelaki dan perempuan. Namun, ini adalah satu pemahaman istilah yang terlalu sempit. Sebaliknya, seksualiti merangkumi segala yang bersangkut-paut dengan perasaan cinta, hasrat (desire), hubungan intim (intimacy), perkahwinan, kawalan sosial, politik, ekonomi, dan agama. Berpegang tangan antara kekasih adalah satu tanda seksualiti seseorang.

Seksualiti sebagai kategori penyelidikan mempunyai sejarah yang bermula dari abad ke-19 dengan penubuhan bidang seksologi yakni bidang saintifik mengenai seksualiti manusia. Dalam kata lain, abad ke-19 merupakan titik permulaan di mana seksualiti dikenalpasti secara saintifik, namun sebagai satu patologi yang boleh diubati.

‘Homoseksualiti’ adalah rekaan sains perubatan semata-mata… 

On Foucault's nexus of power and knowledge, plus some criticisms
Michel Foucault, bapa kajian kritis mengenai teori seksualiti

Sebelum kategori seksualiti yang normatif (heteroseksualiti) diusulkan, kategori homoseksualiti dikaji dahulu. Homoseksualiti dicipta pada tahun 1870-an sebagai satu kategori penyakit minda dan mempunyai sifat-sifat yang hanya boleh dikenalpasti oleh pakar psikiatri.

Mengikut Michel Foucault (1926-1984), seorang homoseksual menjadi satu ‘species’ yang mempunyai ciri-ciri yang boleh dikenalpasti melalui kaedah yang bersifat saintifik. Ini bermakna: melalui wacana perubatan dan penyakit mental, homoseksualiti pertama kali dikenalpasti sebagai satu identiti. Ini tidak bermaksud orang yang bersifat homoseksual tidak pernah wujud sebelum tahun 1870-an, cuma istilah identiti ‘homoseksual’ yang digunakan buat pertama kali diberikan kepada perbuatan dan amalan yang berdasarkan cinta sejenis (same-sex desire).

Mengikut hasil pencarian Foucault dalam History of Sexuality Jilid 1, corak pengaturan dan regulasi sesuatu masyarakat mula berubah daripada regulasi hukum-hakam agama kepada regulasi yang bersifat sekular – melalui sains perubatan. Individu di masyarakat Barat-Kristian beralih daripada membuat pengakuan (confession) dosa seksual di gereja kepada pengakuan mengenai seksualiti mereka kepada para doktor. Perubahan sosial ini sesuai dengan perkembangan sains and teknologi sekitar revolusi pengindustrian dan fahaman humanisme pasca-Pencerahan. Masyakarat pada zaman 1800-an yang mengagungkan sains seperti teori evolusi dan sains genetik disarankan dengan pengaturan sosial yang bersifat saintifik bagi memastikan kemajuan dan kesejahteraan manusia sejagat.

Daripada gagasan Foucault datangnya Queer Theory 

Pendekatan ‘queer’ terbit daripada angkatan aktivis gay dan lesbian yang memperjuangkan hak-hak golongan homoseksual.

Perkataan ‘queer’ yang digunakan dalam aktivisme LGBT di Amerika Syarikat pada akhir dekad 1960-an mempunyai maksud yang bertentangan dengan maksud yang menjelekkan golongan LGBT. Objektif disebalik penggunaan perkataan ‘queer’ yang asalnya digunakan untuk menghina lelaki homoseksual adalah untuk ‘memulihkan’ dan meneutralkan bisa homofobik yang terkandung dalamnya, tidak terlalu berbeza dengan golongan berkulit hitam yang menggunakan perkataan ‘nigger’ sesama mereka atau penggunaan perkataan ‘slut’ dalam gerakan Slutwalk. Ini merupakan satu contoh ‘reverse discourse’ atau wacana berbalik yang diusulkan oleh Foucault.

Sumbangan terbesar Foucault kepada Queer Theory adalah teorinya mengenai cara kuasa (power), wacana (discourse), dan bahasa/ilmu (language/knowledge) saling berinteraksi untuk mencipta realiti. Kuasa yang mengatur sesuatu masyarakat (melalui undang-undang, pihak politik dan agamawan) dikuatkuasakan melalui manipulasi wacana (misalnya melalui propaganda). Wacana yang sempit menghasilkan ruang bicara awam dan persendirian yang sempit.

Beberapa ikhtisar penting dalam Queer Theory: 

Pendekatan ‘queer’ menolak binari gender dan seksualiti yang terdiri daripada homoseksualiti dan heteroseksualiti / maskuliniti dan feminititi.

Identiti ‘queer’ adalah segala perbuatan, pendirian dan gaya hidup yang melanggar norma-norma yang mengongkong individu.

‘Queer’ bersifat subversif dan menyongsang demi mencari jalan yang baru untuk mengekspresi gender dan seksualiti.

Persamaan / perbezaan antara Queer Theory dan teori feminis: 

audre-lorde-in-front-of-a-007
Audre Lorde, tokoh teori feminis

Kedua-dua mempunyai pendirian yang kritikal terhadap peranan gender dan seksualiti yang binari, tradisional dan normatif dalam masyarakat. Kedua-dua juga memegang pada pendapat bahawa gender dan jantina adalah konstruksi sosial.

Karya pemikir-pemikir utama Queer Theory juga merupakan tokoh-tokoh feminis – seperti Judith Butler, Teresa de Lauretis dan Audre Lorde.

Kedua-dua teori feminis radikal dan Queer Theory menolak heteroseksualiti atas dasar penindasannya terhadap wanita dan lelaki gay. Aktivisme feminis dan LGBT muncul bergiat di sekitar tahun 1960 dan 1970-an sewaktu perjuangan hak-hak asasi membasmi perkauman di Amerika Syarikat berlaku.

Namun, terdapat pelbagai perbezaan yang mewujudkan satu jurang antara teori feminis dan Queer Theory.

Misalnya, teori feminis bermula daripada persoalan mengenai perbezaan antara gender dan jantina/seks, manakala tumpuan Queer Theory lebih kepada jantina/seks dan seksualiti. Walaupun teori feminis radikal yang aktif pada zaman 1970-an dan 1980-an adalah sangat kritikal terhadap heteroseksualiti, kini teori feminis kurang memberi perhatian kepada isu homoseksualiti dan heteroseksualiti.

‘Performativiti’ 

Jika gender dianggap satu konstruk sosial – yakni terbentuk daripada proses sosial dan budaya yang boleh dimanipulasi dan berubah mengikut rentak zaman – maka ia tidak timbul secara semulajadi dalam diri seorang perempuan atau lelaki. Sebaliknya, gender harus dipupuk, dipelajari, ditegaskan, dan dikawal sepanjang hayat. Tidak cukup untuk digelar ‘perempuan’ or ‘lelaki’ di saat kelahirannya atau dalam sijil kelahiran, keperempuanan dan kelelakian harus ditonjolkan dan bagi Judith Butler, ia seolah-olah ‘dilakonkan’ di pentas sosial.

Performativiti‘ merupakan konsep yang dikemukakan oleh Judith Butler untuk menunjukkan bahawa gender dan seksualiti bersifat seperti ‘persembahan’ atau lakonan yang mengikuti ‘skrip’ yang ditetapkan oleh norma masyarakat. Bagi Butler, gender seolah-olah satu ‘lakonan’ yang dilakukan oleh individu mengikut syarat-syarat permakaian dan perlakuan. Dalam kata lain, gender bukan sesuatu yang sedia ada tetapi sesuatu yang perlu diusahakan dan diulangi sepanjang hayat.

Dari sisi lain, gender yang bersifat performatif bermaksud gender dibentuk atau dikonstruk melalui tindakan seorang individu yang mengisyaratkan identiti gender beliau. Bagi Butler, gender tidak wujud dalam ‘batin’ atau teras identiti seseorang individu. Gender adalah sesuatu yang dizahirkan sahaja.

rupaul_at_dragcon2c_april_2017
Rupaul, seorang ‘drag queen’ dan penghibur antarabangsa

Drag’ adalah istilah yang digunakan oleh Butler sebagai kiasan atau metafora bagi menerangkan gaya seorang individu memaparkan identiti gendernya. ‘Drag’ merujuk kepada persembahan drag atau permakaian pakaian yang bertentangan dengan identiti gender seseorang. Istilah ‘drag’ digunakan bagi individu biasa kerana gaya pemaparan gender bagi kebanyakan orang sama ada melalui make-up atau memakai tali leher dan business suit adalah sementara dan untuk di ‘pentas’ awam.

Bagi kebanyakan individu, gaya dan bahasa badan, cara permakaian dan pertuturan diatur dan dikawal apabila di tempat awam atau di situasi yang tertentu, seperti acara formal atau temuduga untuk kerja. Mengikut pendapat Judith Butler, kami sentiasa mempersembahkan diri mengikut citarasa diri, norma masyarakat, dan protokol tertentu.

Kesimpulan

Seksualiti – sebagai satu kategori – adalah sesuatu yang bersifat historikal. Ini bermaksud konsep heteroseksualiti dan homoseksualiti hanya boleh digunakan dengan tepat daripada zaman 1870-an. Ini adalah kerana definisi, ciri-ciri dan kategori bagi mengenalpasti heteroseksualiti dan homoseksualiti hanya bermula pada 1870-an

Namun, definisi, ciri-ciri dan kategori heteroseksualiti dan homoseksualiti pada zaman itu menggambarkan kedua-duanya sebagai penyakit mental.

Kecenderungan kita untuk menggunakan binari dan dikotomi untuk klasifikasi gender dan jantina mencerminkan corak bahasa dan logik kita tanpa menyedari bahawa fenomena dan realiti sosial dan biologi adalah lebih kompleks dan bukan hitam-putih. Malah, fenomena dan realiti sosial, biologi, gender dan jantina boleh dilihat sebagai kepelbagaian warna dalam pelangi.

Between sex and abstinence there is education and choice

This is my only column on the Malay Mail Online for the month of May this year. I haven’t been productive on Malay Mail Online as I would like to be and that’s likely to be because I’m doing so much writing elsewhere.

The development of a child’s sexuality is a taboo issue. Although there is no denial that as children, many will develop crushes and have ridiculous fantasies about them. From a young age, children will explore their bodies and learn to masturbate. But the idea of a child masturbating is an unspeakable horror for so many liberal-minded people that silence is the best cure for such hand-ups.

For legal and historical reasons we owe to Victorian laws, 16 is the age of consent. But before then, children are clouded with distorted ideas about sexuality and lack of useful information. Muslim children are more in danger of this knowledge vacuum because of the social disease of child marriage that plagues Malay Muslim families. Although taboo, it is not as if sexuality is not taught in school. Masturbation is likely to come up in Islamic Studies (Pendidikan Islam) in school but couched in restrictive and often lurid terms. No other classroom session will young children be inducted into the categories of human bodily fluids.

Read the rest here.

Sound, fury and écriture féminine in Violette (2013): a review

When I first heard about the film Violette (2013, dir. Martin Provost), I had little knowledge about the life and work of the French writer, Violette Leduc (1907-1972), on which the film was based. What drew me to the film was the fact that she was one time a protégé of Simone de Beauvoir. Imagine being a protégé of Simone de Beauvoir!

The film charts her journey into writing, from being an appendage of a gay writer who could never return her love and lust to being a groundbreaking literary success. What he does offer her instead is an instruction to write, anything and everything she knows. And so she does. After he leaves her to fend for herself, she embarks on a reinvention of herself, with her first manuscript in hand, to Paris.

Leduc’s journey into writing and the occasion that led to her discovery by de Beauvoir appear cosmically serendipitous. Her chance encounter with Le Deuxième Sexe in an acquaintance’s apartment (“A woman has written a big book?”, she thinks aloud) ignites a desire to meet the writer herself.

Leduc stalks de Beauvoir in a Parisian cafe. The scene is established through Leduc’s female gaze; with her back turned to the feminist philosopher, Leduc spies on de Beauvoir using the mirror of her compact case. De Beauvoir’s first depiction as an image in a lady’s compact case is both ironic and trivialising.

When Leduc throws herself (and her manuscript of L’Asphyxie) in de Beauvoir’s direction, it appears that her literary career and its trappings (shoulder-rubbing with artists and willing patrons) are sealed. De Beauvoir adores her manuscript and is keen to mentor Leduc, who was only a year younger. Leduc is the opposite of de Beauvoir; her words spill from a body electrocuted by feeling and desire. She is shameless and openly erotic bordering on desperate in contrast to de Beauvoir’s restraint and cerebralism.

Their homes are further extensions of their opposing personality and state of mind; Leduc lives hand to mouth in a shabby rented room. De Beauvoir lives in an elegant multi-roomed apartment. Shortly after winning the Prix Goncourt for The Mandarins, de Beauvoir would purchase an even more luxurious apartment, pushing the gulf between her and Leduc further.

Pushing past forty by the time her (still unsuccessful) novel L’affamée is published, Leduc is portayed as a woman regressing into adolescence. She is tormented by the thought of being a bastard child and her mother’s maternal transgressions (“My mother never held my hand”), themes that reoccur since her debut, L’Asphyxie (1948). And yet, her mother dotes on Leduc. In one poignant scene, an emotionally exhausted Leduc is bathed by her mother, like a placid baby at bathtime.

Abandonment issues strain Leduc’s relationship with everyone she sexually desires, both women and men, along with insecurities about her lack of beauty. She attributes the unrequited desire she has for Simone de Beauvoir and her general lack of luck as a sexual woman in libidinous French culture to her apparent ugliness.

Her sexuality is written on the pages of her books. They are autobiographies of a woman’s sexuality. Her writing may evoke the contemporary criticism that women, like Lena Dunham’s écriture du jour, write in a ‘confessional’ style that pepper with TMI. They can come across as self-absorbed and narcisstic. But Provost’s portrayal of Leduc depicts a woman who does not love and credit herself enough. Her insecurities undermine the high regard the male French intelligentsia (Sartre, Camus, Genet) have for her.

Soon, and rather predictably, the emotional labour inscribed in her writing takes a toll on Leduc and she is admitted into a sanitarium to ‘recover’ via a treatment of electric shocks. Rather than a moral tale of a woman who writes and desires that ends tragically, Leduc’s episode in hospital is followed by a great literary and erotic flourishing.

Following de Beauvoir’s advice, she goes on a solo walking trip through small provincial towns, writing and wanking as she absorbs the bucolic landscape around her. She is pursued by a younger man, a builder, and yields to his attentions. The film reaches it climax when Leduc publishes her first bestseller, La Bâtarde (1964), to great national acclaim that seals her reputation as a feminist writer.

What compels me most about Violette is that it is a film about écriture féminine. It is a style of writing that may not appeal to many readers for reasons they may not realise or able to articulate. Cixous may be on the money in Le Rire de la Meduse (The Laugh of the Medusa) when she argues that the history of writing is founded on the exclusion of women and their expression. When women did write, they write in a manner as to be recognised and understood by patriarchal culture. And then enter écriture féminine and its subversion of the very grammar of writing. When women produce écriture féminine, they create

A world of searching, the elaboration of a knowledge, on the basis of a systematic experimentation with the bodily functions, a passionate and precise interrogation of her erotogeneity (Cixous, 1976: 876)

It takes courage and self-belief to write words that overflow their typographic vessel with affect and hot bubbling desire. The écriture féminine of Violette Leduc is, to echo de Beauvoir’s foreword to Leduc’s La Bâtarde, “a world full of sound and fury, where love often bears the name of hate, where a passion for life burst forth in cries of despair”.

The reason why women are ridiculed and devalued for their hyper-personal writing is because they are perceived to lack critical acumen. Their writing is measured against the literary success of men. Indeed, I sometimes find autobiographical feminist writing unchallenging and intellectually lazy.

And yet Violette Leduc and the film about her literary career fascinate me on an intellectual level. Though I have wondered what and how Leduc would write if she had an intellectual background like Simone de Beauvoir. Would she write very differently and more self-consciously? Would she abandon writing of the body in favour of the mind? Would her writing be less about herself and acknowledge other women like her who had come before and those who will emerge in decades to come, in a different place?

Reference:

Cixous, Helene (1976) ‘The Laugh of the Medusa’ (translated by Keith Cohen and Paula Cohen), Signs, Vol. 1, No. 4, pp. 875-893

Competing ideological struggles and LGBTQ identities in multicultural Malaysia

I have an article published in a special issue on LGBT identities and cultures in Southeast Asia in Südostasien, a journal published by Stiftung Asienhaus, on LGBTQ identities in Malaysia today. It has been translated into German from English. Below is the article in English:

Source: Wikimedia Commons

Malaysia stands slightly part from its neighbours in the Southeast Asian region because of its distinct ingredients of Islam, multiculturalism and modernity. It is perhaps because of the uneasy balancing act of these ingredients that it has maintained a fragile social fabric of toleration between different ethnic and religious groups. Rapid, albeit uneven, industrialisation and pro-Malay-Muslim policies since the 1980s have produced one of the economic success stories of Southeast Asia. Yet, the comforts of modernity have somehow allowed the nation to stay calm and carry on despite alarming rates of human rights abuse, deepening Islamisation and corruption in recent years.

Islam, multiculturalism and modernity have shaped the discourse of gender and sexuality in Malaysia. Being a predominantly Muslim country with colonial laws that prohibit same-sex relations and Islamic laws that criminalise “cross-dressing”, Malaysia is a hybrid modernity with socio-political restrictions and opportunities. The use of Islam as a tool to appease the alienation of the Malay community has been a foregrounding theme since the earliest days of the nation. Though it seems that nearly everything in the public and private spheres of Malaysia is tainted by this alienation and its attendant, the racialisation of politics.

Globalisation of gender and sexuality

The story of LGBTQ identities in Malaysia parallels that of many others across the region. It has embraced the internationalisation of sexual identities and the “global gay”(i) and shares a discursive trajectory that began with HIV awareness campaigns in the 1990s although these have tapered off in the last decade. Its small community of activists employ the language of rights and Western labels of self-identification. However, specific events in Malaysian modern history would give the story of LGBTQ identities its distinctive flavour.

A nebulous kind of homophobia and transphobia would emerge concurrently with the increasing awareness of global LGBT discourse in Malaysia. Since the 1990s, non-normative sexual identities become more visible in public discourse and associated with Westernisation. Sadly, this visibility had come with a price; indigenous non-normative practices and identities which thrived and were tolerated for decades (ii) were being viewed as deviant and sinful in Islam. Effeminate male traditional wedding organisers and bridal make-up artists, and court dancers who reside in ‘specialised homosexual villages’ (iii) have gradually disappeared since the 1980s. The lack of political will to protect vulnerable groups from violence and discrimination in Malaysia has caused many to go underground and silent.

Male homosexuality was thrust into the public consciousness in the late 1990s with the political dressing-down and imprisonment of the former deputy prime minister, Anwar Ibrahim, for the crime of sodomy and corruption. Lurid descriptions of same-sex relations made front page news nearly every day during Anwar Ibrahim’s trial. It was a public tar and feathering that appeared to guarantee the end of his political career. The former deputy prime minister continues to battle for his freedom today.

By the 2000s, homosexuality and gay male identities were firmly established in the Malaysian public consciousness but the latter continued to be toxic. In 2010, Azwan Ismail, a Malay-Muslim man, received death threats after posting a Youtube video titled ‘I’m gay and I’m okay’. The repercussions following Azwan’s attempt to connect to a global queer mediascape demonstrated the limits of national boundaries. There has not been a high profile online campaign to promote acceptance of gay identities in Malaysia since.

The transgender communities in Malaysia have made important inroads by challenging the state sharia court’s ruling against ‘cross-dressing’ as unconstitutional in 2014. However, in 2015, their victory was short-lived as the federal court overturned the decision in favour of the sharia court in a larger campaign of the sharia court’s growing supremacy over the constitution that guarantees protection from gender-based discrimination.

Patriarchy and fundamentalism

A comment about patriarchy is important here, too. The oppression towards LGBTQ identities in Malaysia is a reflection of the deeply patriarchal society that is increasingly repressive towards Muslim women. The mark of patriarchy is felt even in the progressive spaces of LGBTQ activism; compared to the gay men and transwomen, transmen, the experiences and voices of queer and lesbian cis-gendered women (or women born female) against repression are rarely heard. This transwomen and gay male-dominated LGBTQ discourse in Malaysia may be attributed to the legacy of HIV awareness activism of the 1990s that was couched in more acceptable terms of public health management. By contrast, queer and lesbian cis-gendered women have had fewer opportunities at raising public consciousness for different interest groups.

As the country falls into a period of deeper discontent with its leadership, it sees the government employing strategies to demonise sexual and gender minorities to consolidate support from a conservative electorate. Bizarrely, the present Malaysian prime minister, Najib Razak, has condemned LGBTQ people as dangerous as the terrorist organisation Daesh. This has dangerous ramifications for a nation that has great difficulty in managing the diversity of cultures, beliefs, gender and sexuality.

When a visitor arrives in Malaysia, she may be mesmerised by the dizzying cornucopia of consumerist pleasures and hyper-modernity. An image of multicultural harmony invoked in our delight in food hides both the ideological imagination and reality of deteriorating standards of livelihood and wellbeing. As the country enters the new year with scandals ravaging the economy, politics, and the environment, the hope for women and other minorities in Malaysia remains particularly dim. The crackdown on Malaysian civil society and the pervading fear threaten to cripple and choke any effort to bring issues on LGBTQ into the public sphere.

Footnotes:

i Dennis Altman, Dennis. 1996. Rupture of continuity? The internationalization of gay identities. Social Text 1: 77-94.
ii Michael Peletz. 2009. Gender Pluralism: Southeast Asia Since Early Modern Times. New York and London: Routledge.
iii Peletz. 2009. Gender Pluralism, pg. 186-187.

Guest blog: Why can’t women wear short skirts?

Source: detail from photo by Rosea Lake
Source: detail from photo by Rosea Lake

Today we have a guest blog by Kaberi Dutta. Kaberi who is a nineteen year old Malaysian studying Social Anthropology and Law at SOAS, and hoping to alert people to the importance of feminism, one argument at a time.

*****

Having grown up as a Malaysian Indian girl, who studied at an International school in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, I have been exposed to many different cultures and perspectives, which I am grateful for. However, as a result of various exposures, I have come to find certain faults in Malaysian society that, although I do my best to understand and respect, urge me to question these ‘rules’. Before I explain, I’m not biased against my own culture- Western culture too has many faults, some of which are more extreme (in different ways) than our own, but as a Malaysian, I feel more passionate and justified discussing my own culture.

There’s no avoiding the recent surge in the policing of women’s attires, from the woman who was required to cover her legs with a towel to visit a relative in hospital to the two women who were made to wear sarongs to cover the skirt that was barely above their knees. As a teenage-cum-woman, I was already disgraced at the attitudes of these institutions that forced these women to cover up their bodies, thus humiliating them, but it wasn’t until my own experience with body policing that I felt the need to speak up. Earlier this morning, I went to the Damansara Public Library to study for my exams- dressed in a long shirt and a short skirt (admittedly, well above my knees). After sitting down at a table for a brief ten minutes, I was handed a notice highlighting the dress code for the library and although I wasn’t instructed to leave, my embarrassment caused me to quietly pack my things and return home. I have multiple issues with this including the double standard that is in place when enforcing such rules as well as the reasoning itself behind dress codes for women. Before I elaborate, I’d like to highlight my reason for wearing the short skirt that was at the brunt of this issue.

As many are aware, growing up as a teenage girl is widely known to be filled with pressures from peers and society itself. Society places pressures on girls to conform to a certain image: in Western cultures, it’s always shifting but the current pressure is to look quite similar to Kim Kardashian- curvy with a full bum and breasts. In Malaysian society, it’s more of the opposite- girls are expected to dress modestly and not show off excess skin by wearing revealing clothing. What with all the external influences we are exposed to, being comfortable in one’s own skin has become increasing hard to do. The statistics alone for eating disorders represents this- since the 1960’s, the number of emergence of eating disorders has doubled. Shockingly, the age at which one becomes vulnerable to these pressures is continuously getting lower- reports have shown that an increasing number of children have fallen in to eating disorders at ages as young as six. This article, however, is not to do with the pressures of image as a girl, however (not to say that men and boys don’t suffer from eating disorders) I am just explaining that given all these pressures, I am proud of the fact that, to the most extent, I am comfortable with my body, and this reflects in the way I choose to present myself, and dress. I wear short skirts because I feel comfortable in them, the exact same reason that on other days, I wear jeans. My choice of clothing is a reflection of what I feel comfortable in, nothing more. I don’t wear short skirts to grab the attention of men and neither do a lot of girls. Why is that not okay?

Relating this to the incident that occurred this morning, women aren’t allowed to wear short skirts because they are deemed provocative. My biggest question is why are they deemed provocative? The word ‘provocative’ is defined as being ‘intended or intending to arouse sexual desire or interest’ and as I have stated, that was not my intention. And if provocativeness arises from intent, then doesn’t it deem that I am the only person who can define my clothing as being provocative, since I am the only person who could accurately know my intentions? For anyone else to define clothing as being provocative, would merely be making an assumption. However, taking the definition of the word loosely and agreeing that I didn’t intend for my clothing to lead to ‘sexual desire or interest’, let’s assume that people were effected in a sexual sense by my clothing. Is that my fault for wearing what I feel comfortable in, or the fault of the men who objectify women and see them merely as sexual beings? In a culture where victim blaming has risen, what with women being told not to dress a certain way to avoid being raped (in extreme cases), I think we’re tackling this problem all wrong. Instead of demanding that women dress a certain way so as not to make men sexually aroused or uncomfortable, shouldn’t we actually teach men to respect women irregardless of what they are wearing?

That issue aside, I was also angered regarding the huge double standard in place when it came to enforcing the dress code of the library. Having studied there for nearly a week, I had witnessed men in flip flops and shorts, to no comment by the librarian, but the moment a women breaks the rules- she has to change? I understand why in certain areas one must dress a certain way- I would never wear a short skirt to a temple or church out of respect for the religion- but if you believe that an area needs to have a dress code, then it should be enforced without gender bias. I’m not going to be defiant and try to return to the library in a short skirt, but at least make sure that the men are following the rules too. I see no reason why they should be exempt.

New column on the Malay Mail: The economics of virginity in patriarchal Malaysia

My column on the Malay Mail, The economics of virginity in patriarchal Malaysia, published 2nd February 2015:

Let’s forget that the hymen is central to the idea of (female) virginity.

Focus instead on virginity as a cultural and social form of control. When we do this, we will discover that virginity is only a construct rather than a “real” thing. Once we recognise that virginity is a man-made idea and serves the interests of straight male sexuality, we can expose its sinister purpose.

Read the rest here.

Is being called a prostitute misogynistic?

Upon arriving home from secondary school many years ago, I was slightly taken aback to find that someone had stuck ‘Slut’ on a post-it note on my backpack. I knew what the word meant and I was sure I was not that, thought my socially-awkward, pimply 15 year old self.

Years later in university, and still called a slut for making a Malay couple change seats in a computer lab (long story), I became determined to uncover the other meanings of this word and its similes.

This brings me to the outcry at the recent sexist attacks towards the female members of DAP: Dyana Sofya Mohd Daud, Young Syefura Othman and Jamila Rahim (Melati). In a meeting with the press, the three women objected to the attacks for attempting to ‘dishonour’ their womanhood (menjatuhkan martabat wanita).

When Dyana, Rara, and Melati were labelled ‘pelacur’ it was aimed to silence and shame them for their political beliefs. And this is not the first or last time. It is a strategy with multiple historical precedents that reminds women they do not belong in Malaysian politics. The reasons why women are under-represented as leaders in politics are laid bare yet again.

There is no male equivalent for ‘pelacur’ in both meaning and use. It is used against women and as a way to emasculate men. However, I take issue when ‘prostitute’ is cast as the ultimate symbol of feminine moral laxity and dishonour. Is being called ‘pelacur’, ‘sundal’ or ‘jalang’ really so bad? Does this mean being a prostitute, or to use the political term, sex worker, is the worst a woman can be?

If the very term ‘prostitute’ is inherently misogynistic, then it reinforces the mutually exclusive dichotomy of ‘good’ women/female sexuality versus ‘bad’ women/female sexuality. ‘Good’ female sexuality is pure and virginal while its corresponding ‘bad’ is slutty and free with her body. ‘Good’ women deserve protection and respect for their restraint while ‘bad’ women do not.

Who gets to say which woman is ‘good’ or ‘bad’? Nobody.

The thing about sexual stigmatising terms is that they can be both abusive and a source of resistance. It is abusive when the perpetrator uses it with the aim of shaming a person into submission. Sexual epithets of abuse is used when perpetrators lack the vocabulary and intellectual capacity to disagree or show displeasure, not because the words in and of themselves are abusive or taboo.

By contrast, women who want to reclaim female terms of abuse – prostitute, slut, slag, cunt , sundal, jalang – do so to neutralise their toxicity. Slutwalks that have now taken place around the globe aim to do just this; to show that sexual terms of abuse would have no effect on women when the patriarchal dichotomy of female sexuality is exposed for what it is.

Sex workers who are the ‘real’ prostitutes become the target of violence when they are emblematic of ‘bad’ female sexuality. Women who distance themselves from their sisters in the sex industry do no favours either, because all women are victims of misogyny and all can and will become targets of sexist abuse when they incite even the slightest displeasure.

So is being called a prostitute misogynistic? It depends on your intended meaning and effect. By right, prostitute and pelacur, along with sundal and jalang, should not be so toxic as they are now. They need to be reclaimed by all women who care about the integrity of their bodies and sexuality and those of others. Reclaiming stigmatising words is like intercepting ammunition and throwing them back, defused.