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Last week, in New Delhi, India, news stories of a horrific gang
rape spread quickly, igniting widespread outrage. A 23 year old woman
was attacked by six men on a moving bus and brutalized for 45 minutes,
in the most recent and alarming of several high-profile incidents.
Protesters have taken to the streets to demonstrate against the growing
incidence of rape, and its slow and ineffective prosecution. Riot police
have responded, dispersing crowds with forceful tactics including water
cannons, batons, and tear gas. India's government has now ordered a
special inquiry into the incident to identify any negligence or errors
on the part of police. [26 photos] Friday, December 28, 2012
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Let’s ask how we contribute to rape
As I write this, there are protests going on all over Delhi, and in other parts of the country, against the gang-rape of a young woman on a moving bus a few days ago in the city. People are out there in large numbers — young, old, male, female, rich, poor — and they’re angry. They want the rapists to be caught, they want them to be taught a lesson, many are suggesting they should be hanged, or castrated, but also that the State should act, bring in effective laws, fast track courts, police procedures and more. Not since the Mathura rape case have there been such widespread protests. The difference is that then, it was mainly women’s groups who were protesting; today’s protests are more diverse. Sometimes, tragically, it takes a case like this to awaken public consciousness, to make people realise that rape and sexual assault are not merely ‘women’s issues,’ they’re a symbol of the deep-seated violence that women — and other marginalised people — experience every day in our society.
At a time when
every politician, no matter what colour, is crying foul, every judge and
lawyer, no matter what their loyalties, is joining the chorus, every
policeperson, no matter from where, is adding his/her voice, it is worth
remembering some key things. First, more than 90 per cent of rapes are
committed by people known to the victim/survivor, a staggering number of
rapists are family members. When we demand the death penalty, do we
mean therefore that we should kill large numbers of uncles, fathers,
brothers, husbands, neighbours? How many of us would even report cases
of rape then? What we’re seeing now — the slow, painful increase in even
reports being filed — will all disappear. Second, the death penalty has
never been a deterrent against anything — where, for example, is the
evidence that death penalties have reduced the incidence of murders?
Quite apart from the fact that the State should never be given
the right to take life, there is an argument to be made that imposing
the death penalty will further reduce the rate of conviction, as no
judge will award it.
Then, and this is something that
women’s groups grasped long ago: a large number of rapes are committed
in custody, many of these by the police. Mathura was raped by two
policemen, Rameezabee was raped inside a police station by police
personnel, Suman Rani was raped by policemen. There are countless other
cases: will we hang all police rapists? Put together, that’s a lot of
people to hang.
Police action is, in fact, one of the
demands. Yet, the police’s record, whether in recording cases or in
conducting investigations, is nothing to write home about. On a recent
television show, a police officer put his finger on it when he said: how
can we expect that police personnel, who are, after all, made of the
same stuff as the men who gang-raped the young woman last week, to
suddenly and miraculously behave differently? I was reminded of a study
done by a local newsmagazine not so long ago of the attitudes of high
ranking police officers in Delhi about rape. Roughly 90 per cent of them
felt the woman deserved it, that she asked for it, that she should not
have been out alone, or should not have been dressed in a particular
fashion. Strange that women’s bodies should invite such reactions —
could it be that the problem is in the eye of the beholder? Why, for
example, does it seem to be more ‘legitimate’ for women to be out during
daylight hours, but not at night?
Lawyers and
judges too have joined the protests — and this is all to the good for
the more diverse the protests, the more impact they will have. But it’s
lawyers who use every ruse in the book to allow rapists to get away,
judges who make concessions because the rapists are ‘young men who have
their whole lives in front of them’ and so on. Do women’s lives not have
a value then?
And then there are our politicians.
Perhaps we need to ask how many politicians have rape cases, or
allegations of rape pending against them. Perhaps we need to ask why no
one is asking this question: that here you have an elected politician,
your next prime ministerial candidate, someone under whose rule Muslim
women in Gujarat were not only subjected to horrendous rape but also to
equally dreadful violence. How can we, how can the media, how can
journalists — all of whom are lauding the success of this politician,
how can they not raise, and particularly at this time, the
question of his sanctioning, encouraging the use of rape as a weapon of
war? And more, we need to ask: if the politicians are indeed serious
about this issue, why are they not out there with the protestors? When
Anna Hazare was fasting, there wasn’t a day that went by when one or
other politician did not go to see him. Where are they now?
Rape
happens everywhere: it happens inside homes, in families, in
neighbourhoods, in police stations, in towns and cities, in villages,
and its incidence increases, as is happening in India, as society goes
through change, as women’s roles begin to change, as economies slow down
and the slice of the pie becomes smaller — and it is connected to all
these things. Just as it is integrally and fundamentally connected to
the disregard, and indeed the hatred, for females that is so evident in
the killing of female foetuses. For so widespread a crime, band aid
solutions are not the answer.
Protest is important,
it shakes the conscience of society, it brings people close to change,
it makes them feel part of the change. And there is a good chance that
the current wave of protests will lead to at least some results —
perhaps even just fast track courts. But perspective is also important:
we need to ask ourselves: if it had been the army in Manipur or Kashmir
who had been the rapists, would we have protested in quite the same way?
Very likely not, for there nationalism enters the picture. Remember
Kunan Posphpora in the late nineties when the Rajasthan Rifles raped
over 30 women? Even our liberal journalists found it difficult to credit
that this could have happened, that the army could have been capable of
this, and yet, the people of Kunan Poshpora know. Even today, women
from this area find it difficult to marry — stigma has a long life.
Would we have been as angry if the rape had taken place in a small town
near Delhi and the victim had been Dalit? Remember Khairlanji? Why did
that rape, of a mother and her daughter, gruesome, violent, heinous, and
their subsequent murder not touch our consciences in quite the same
way.
It is important to raise our collective voice
against rape. But rape is not something that occurs by itself. It is
part of the continuing and embedded violence in society that targets
women on a daily basis. Let’s raise our voices against such violence and
let’s ask ourselves how we, in our daily actions, in our thoughts,
contribute to this, rather than assume that the solution lies with
someone else. Let’s ask ourselves how we, our society, we as people,
create and sustain the mindset that leads to rape, how we make our men
so violent, how we insult our women so regularly, let’s ask ourselves
how privilege creates violence.
It is important we raise our collective voice for women, but let’s raise it for all
women, let’s raise it so that no woman, no matter that she be poor,
rich, urban, rural, Dalit, Muslim, Hindu, or whatever, ever, in the
future, has to face sexual violence, and no man assumes that because of
the system and people’s mindsets, he can simply get away with it. And
let’s raise it also for men, for transgenders, for the poor — all those
who become targets of violence. Let’s not forget that the young rape
survivor in Delhi was accompanied by a friend who too was subjected to
violence and nearly killed. Let’s talk about him too.
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, December 07, 2012
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
For Second Opinion, Consult a Computer?
SAN FRANCISCO — The man on stage had his audience of 600 mesmerized. Over the course of 45 minutes, the tension grew. Finally, the moment of truth arrived, and the room was silent with anticipation.
At last he spoke. “Lymphoma with secondary hemophagocytic syndrome,” he said. The crowd erupted in applause.
Professionals in every field revere their superstars, and in medicine the best diagnosticians are held in particularly high esteem. Dr. Gurpreet Dhaliwal, 39, a self-effacing associate professor of clinical medicine at the University of California, San Francisco, is considered one of the most skillful clinical diagnosticians in practice today.
The case Dr. Dhaliwal was presented, at a medical conference last year, began with information that could have described hundreds of diseases: the patient had intermittent fevers, joint pain, and weight and appetite loss.
To observe him at work is like watching Steven Spielberg tackle a script or Rory McIlroy a golf course. He was given new information bit by bit — lab, imaging and biopsy results. Over the course of the session, he drew on an encyclopedic familiarity with thousands of syndromes. He deftly dismissed red herrings while picking up on clues that others might ignore, gradually homing in on the accurate diagnosis.
Just how special is Dr. Dhaliwal’s talent? More to the point, what can he do that a computer cannot? Will a computer ever successfully stand in for a skill that is based not simply on a vast fund of knowledge but also on more intangible factors like intuition?
Read more...
Thursday, November 01, 2012
Monday, October 08, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
in Online Courses, Technology | August 22nd, 2012
During the 1940s, when India won its independence from Britain, the leaders of the newly-formed nation began imagining the Indian Institutes of Technology, otherwise known as the IITs. Much like MIT in the US, these schools would cultivate some of the world’s top scientists and engineers. And they’d make technology key to the future of India’s economic development.
Today, the IITs stand atop the Indian educational system and, like their peer institutions in the US, they’re making a point of putting free courses on the web. Rather quietly, they’ve amassed some 268 courses, giving anyone with an internet connection access to 10,000+ video lectures. As you might expect, the course lineup skews heavily toward science and technology, the stuff that contributes to India’s industrial base – Introduction to Basic Electronics, High Performance Computer Architecture, Space Flight Mechanics, Steel Making, and all of the rest. But they’ve also added a few contemplative courses to the mix, courses like Contemporary Literature, Quantum Physics, the History of Economic Theory, and Game Theory and Economics.
You can start rummaging through the complete list of IIT courses on YouTube here, or you can access them via this IIT website, which gives you the ability to download videos straight to your computer. Naturally we’ve added many essential IIT courses to our list of Free Online Courses from Great Universities — Harvard, Yale, Stanford, MIT, UC Berkeley, Oxford, the list goes on.
Related Content:
Yale Introduces Another Seven Free Online Courses, Bringing Total to 42
Harvard Presents Free Courses with the Open Learning Initiative
MIT Introduces Complete Courses to OpenCourseWare Project
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The Birth and Partition of a Nation: India's Independence Told in Photos
Aug 15 2012, 3:05 PM ET
August 15th, 1947, inaugurated one of the cruelest
and most enduring ironies of decolonization. India, a British property with over 4,500
years of civilization and a population of 415 million, finally achieved independence.
But it was a triumph that opened a social, historical and geographic wound
that has yet to fully heal: the new Indian state was partitioned into two.
Violent divisions between the subcontinent's Hindu and
Muslim communities, and Muslim League leader Mohammed Ali Jinnah's
longstanding campaign
for an Indian-Muslim political entity in the event of a British
withdrawal, made
partition the expedient choice for a weary and overextended post-war
British government.
On June 3rd, 1947, British Viceroy Lord Louis Mountbatten announced
that, as of August 15, India would be split between separate
majority-Hindu and majority-Muslim
countries.
The border between the future modern states of India and Pakistan was created under the supervision of Sir Cyril Radcliffe, a London barrister who was given only five weeks to draw the new borders. The resulting armed conflict persists today, from Hindu-ruled yet majority-Muslim Kashmir, to the bifurcation of Pakistan into remote eastern and western haves that later waged war. Millions of Pakistani Bengalis lost access to Kolkata, a regional metropolis that now sits on the Indian side of the border. As political scientist Lucy Chester recounts, the Radcilffe Line was "a failure in terms of boundary-making, but a striking success in terms of providing political cover to all sides."
India was independent, India's Muslim minority had its own independent state, and the British were in a position to leave their troublesome colonies behind. They were incomplete victories: up to 17 million people were eventually displaced, and 1 million killed, in the sectarian violence that followed partition. Mohandas Gandhi, the leader of India's independence movement, was assassinated by a Hindu nationalist in January 1948 over his perceived sympathies toward India's Muslims. A devastating civil war in East Pakistan resulted in the creation of Bangladesh in 1972. India and Pakistan fought wars over Kashmir in 1947, 1965, and 1999. The Kashmir conflict still serves as an ostensible justification for Pakistan's support of anti-Indian terrorist groups -- as well as for both countries' development of nuclear weapons.
Today, democratic India is a regional power, and Bangladesh is an emerging democracy -- even troubled Pakistan boasts one of the world's top 30 economies. Still, even 65 years later, the full cost of partition has yet to be fully paid. Here is the story of that fateful day, and the days immediately before and after, told in photos.
Mohammad Ali Jinnah and Mohandas Gandhi in 1944. Gandhi opposed partition, while Jinnah's Muslim League lobbied for some kind of autonomous Muslim political entity in the event of a British withdrawal. He was briefly speaker of Pakistan's National Assembly before his death in 1948. (Wikimedia)
The border between the future modern states of India and Pakistan was created under the supervision of Sir Cyril Radcliffe, a London barrister who was given only five weeks to draw the new borders. The resulting armed conflict persists today, from Hindu-ruled yet majority-Muslim Kashmir, to the bifurcation of Pakistan into remote eastern and western haves that later waged war. Millions of Pakistani Bengalis lost access to Kolkata, a regional metropolis that now sits on the Indian side of the border. As political scientist Lucy Chester recounts, the Radcilffe Line was "a failure in terms of boundary-making, but a striking success in terms of providing political cover to all sides."
India was independent, India's Muslim minority had its own independent state, and the British were in a position to leave their troublesome colonies behind. They were incomplete victories: up to 17 million people were eventually displaced, and 1 million killed, in the sectarian violence that followed partition. Mohandas Gandhi, the leader of India's independence movement, was assassinated by a Hindu nationalist in January 1948 over his perceived sympathies toward India's Muslims. A devastating civil war in East Pakistan resulted in the creation of Bangladesh in 1972. India and Pakistan fought wars over Kashmir in 1947, 1965, and 1999. The Kashmir conflict still serves as an ostensible justification for Pakistan's support of anti-Indian terrorist groups -- as well as for both countries' development of nuclear weapons.
Today, democratic India is a regional power, and Bangladesh is an emerging democracy -- even troubled Pakistan boasts one of the world's top 30 economies. Still, even 65 years later, the full cost of partition has yet to be fully paid. Here is the story of that fateful day, and the days immediately before and after, told in photos.
Mohammad Ali Jinnah and Mohandas Gandhi in 1944. Gandhi opposed partition, while Jinnah's Muslim League lobbied for some kind of autonomous Muslim political entity in the event of a British withdrawal. He was briefly speaker of Pakistan's National Assembly before his death in 1948. (Wikimedia)
Monday, August 06, 2012
Captain Lakshmi
Lakshmi Sehgal (“Captain Lakshmi”), doctor and fighter for Indian independence, died on July 23rd, aged 97
Aug 4th 2012 | from the print edition
AS SHE moved, pert and bird-like, round her tiny rented clinic in
industrial Kanpur in northern India, Lakshmi Sehgal made her patients
feel completely safe in her hands. Lightly but firmly, her fingers moved
across the swollen bellies of pregnant women, or felt for a pulse, or
probed a wound. Her sister said she had always had the technique to
reassure. Those same hands, in West Bengal in 1971, had massaged the
scrawny limbs of Bangladeshi refugees, and in December 1984 had soothed
the burning eyes of victims of the explosion at a chemical factory in
Bhopal.They also knew how to fire a revolver and prime a grenade, change the magazine on a Tommy gun and wield a sword. They were as skilled and ruthless as any man’s, for Dr Lakshmi had been trained beside the men to become a killing machine. From 1943 to 1945, in the jungles of Singapore and what was then Burma, she commanded a brand-new unit of the Indian National Army in the hope of overthrowing the British Raj. The Rani of Jhansi regiment, set up by the independence leader Subhas Chandra Bose (left of her, above), was for women only, the first in Asia. It was named after a heroine of the 1857 Sepoy Mutiny against the British, a widowed child bride who cut her saris into trousers to ride into battle. For Dr Lakshmi, another rich tomboy who had married too young, a rider of horses and driver of cars who had eagerly thrown her foreign-made dresses on a nationalist bonfire, the rani made an irresistible model.
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
JFK's Overshadowed Crisis
IN APRIL, India launched a long-range missile capable of carrying a nuclear bomb deep into the Indian Ocean. The successful Agni missile test fulfilled India’s fifty-year quest to achieve the means of dispatching a nuclear weapon to Beijing. Just about fifty years ago, in October 1962, India fought a brief war against China in the Himalaya Mountains. India lost that war—and vowed it would acquire the capacity to deter Chinese aggression.
The Sino-Indian war also posed a crisis for America’s young president, John F. Kennedy, who had entered office determined to build a strong U.S. relationship with India. But his attention that fateful autumn was diverted to a more ominous crisis—the one involving Soviet efforts to place nuclear missiles in Cuba—that unleashed a dangerous nuclear face-off with the Soviet Union. Thus, Kennedy confronted two simultaneous crises, one far overshadowed by the other at the time and also later in history.
But Kennedy’s handling of the 1962 war—in the midst of a far graver national challenge—offers lessons today for those interested in the ongoing diplomatic conundrum posed by India and its mutually hostile neighbor, Pakistan.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Think Again: India's Rise
Unfortunately, the
fascination with India's growing economic clout and foreign-policy overtures
has glossed over its institutional limits, the many quirks of its political
culture, and the significant economic and social challenges it faces. To cite
but one example, at least 30
percent of Indian agricultural produce spoils because the country has
failed to develop a viable supply chain. Foreign investors could alleviate, if
not solve, that problem. But thanks to the intransigence of a small number of
political parties and organized interest groups, India has refused to open its
markets to outsiders. Until India can meet basic challenges like this, its
greatness will remain a matter of rhetoric, not fact.
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