For weeks now, large sections of Indian society have been obsessed with the murder of a newlywed man by his spouse and accomplices of hers, including her alleged romantic partner. The murder appears to be premeditated, and is indeed shocking: Raja Raghuvanshi and Sonam Raghuvanshi were married in Indore on May 11, went on their honeymoon to Meghalaya, and a staged disappearance occurred on May 23. His body was found in a gorge near Weisawdong Falls on June 2; police investigations have so far revealed an elaborate conspiracy involving contract killers, a plot to kill another woman in order to have a decoy body while Sonam escaped, a number of earlier murder attempts and more gory details. It is believed that her family had opposed her relationship with Raj Kushwaha, and arranged her marriage to the late Raja Raghuvanshi instead.
Yet, under the shock is something commonplace: forced marriage, curtailed freedom, extreme decisions made under duress that do not always make moral or practical sense to an observer. The Meghalaya honeymoon murder — as it has been dubbed and will come to be remembered — is an exceptional event. The vast majority of forced marriages in this country — which some may even argue constitute the vast majority of marriages in this country — do not end this way. They do not even end, and therein lies the problem.
I am not going to defend Sonam Raghuvanshi, who appears to have had significant resources to orchestrate the murder — resources which could have been utilised to get free of the marriage without having to kill someone to do it. This is presuming that there are no darker layers involving severe abuse from her late spouse, his family or her own. Going strictly by details that have emerged so far, it is clear that the crime is unforgivable. The feminist position, in my view, is not to attempt to defend the reprehensible, but only to try to prevent further backlash against women.
Unsurprisingly, misogynistic responses to this murder join the ranks of reactions to a recent spate of suicides by men undergoing divorce proceedings, the witch hunt against actor Rhea Chakroborty following her ex-partner’s demise, and a slew of other cases in which blame has been placed on women regardless of the fairness of the accusation. The Raghuvanshi murder fuels greater acrimony towards women in general. It has always been present, of course, but in recent years, the confluence of radicalisation through digital accessibility and the link between patriarchy and hypernationalism have made its impact more pervasive and insidious.
We sometimes laugh at Indian men who say they will not marry because they don’t trust Indian women. We say, “Good riddance — may they never inflict themselves on another, and may they never propagate.” But these are not the only kind of misogynists out there. There is at least one type that has always been a part of this culture, that has dictated it and built it in fact. Justified horror at this murder will be used — is being used — to tighten controls around women. Even the vulnerable will be ascribed the agency to kill, and through this illusion be asphyxiated instead.