I am a journalist who has been reporting from Jammu and Kashmir for the last 23 years. Recently, I was reporting on the aftermath of the horrific terrorist attack in Kashmir in which more than 40 soldiers were martyred.
Like every Indian, I was outraged and even wrote a strongly worded column in the Washington Post talking of how Pakistan must be made to pay for backing terrorism; and so, too, must the countries that have shielded it.
This visceral anger has reflected in all my work—my comments on social media, television shows and writings. As a reporter who cut her teeth covering the Kargil war of 1999 from the frontline, I have a deep attachment to our soldiers. Ironically, while the right-wing would want to classify me as a bleeding heart “lefty”, my thinking can be quite militaristic. I am among those who have argued that some sort of military response (combined with coercive diplomacy) to Pakistan after the terror strike in Pulwama is not just inevitable; it is appropriate and necessary.
However, a couple of days ago, like a few other journalists, I also spoke out against the harassment and hounding of ordinary Kashmiri students who were unconnected to the terror strike. I wrote on Twitter that this is exactly what the Jaish-e-Mohammad wanted—to divide us as people. I offered help to any student who needed so.
Within 24 hours of this message—and, of course, in no way it took away my rage over the terror attack—I started receiving hundreds of messages abusing me, threatening me, and vilifying me. In what is clearly a coordinated and violent mob attack, now spread over several days, my phone number has been circulated in scores of WhatsApp groups and on Twitter. Fake news has been used to urge mobs to attack me with the ridiculous and patently false claim that I had supported the Pakistanis. Nothing could be further from the truth, and my writings and reports on TV are testimony to this. I have consistently argued that till Pakistan acts against Hafiz Saeed and Masood Azhar, everything else is meaningless.
Until now, I have received close to 2,000 calls. One number sent me a picture of his genitals; scores of others sent me messages in Hindi saying the equivalent of “suck my dick”, “you are a whore” and so on. One man wrote: “You need to be shot.” Since then, my number has been photoshopped onto comments that I have not written; it has also been added to dating sites and call girl services. Many of the images sent to me are pornographic, because when it comes to disagreeing with women, the violence of thought and action must be sexualised.
So, you may wonder why did I share these images and numbers online on Twitter? Why did I repost a nude picture sent to me by a perpetrator of abuse? I decided that since my privacy had been violated in such a violent fashion, I must name and shame the perpetrators of sexual abuse. Let Indians know what women go through for having a mind of our own. If the images made you squeamish, imagine what they make me feel. Why should I sanitise this experience that I am undergoing? Should the world not know how my inbox and my private space has been invaded by throngs of men?
To my shock, Twitter, instead of weighing in on the side of gender equality, locked my account and forced me to take down the tweets where I outed the men endangering my life. Ironically, it was on Twitter where my number was first circulated, among other platforms. Twitter’s response is also discouraging because the platform has been routinely used to harass and abuse women. And, while I have complained to them scores of times, I have never seen them respond with the eagerness with which they did this time to shut me out. Not once has an abuser or a man threatening rape online been shut down in response to my complaint or that of so many other women I know.
As a woman journalist, I have covered wars and riots, and believe myself to be as tough as they come. But, this mob attack cannot be taken lightly in an environment of violence and cyberbullying. This is the mob—purveyors of falsehood, abuse and violence. Today it is me, tomorrow it will be us. This is 'We, The Mob'.