By Sangeeth Sebastian
In
a country where nearly half the sex workers are either abducted or sold as
minors into the trade, arguing that all those who sell sex are not victims of
exploitation may be difficult.
Yet,
the reality is that at least for a section of women in India , sex work
is just that: work. The arrest of South Indian actor Shweta Prasad Babu
allegedly for prostitution last week shows how quick we are as a society in
branding such women as “victims” in need of “rescue” and “rehabilitation.”
There
is a distinction between sex work and trafficking. While trafficking is
coercive, exploitative and criminal, sex work can be a conscious choice.
By
her own admission, Shewta resorted to sex work to “make money” and support some
“good causes.” It was something, which she opted out of her own free will.
Publishing images of the actor as an innocent looking child artiste, which she
once was, along with the sob story of her arrest, does not alter the reality
that she is now a 23-year-old woman capable of taking decisions on her own.
In
a statement released to the media after her arrest, Shweta claimed she knew
several other heroines who also worked as freelance sex workers to maintain a
cosy lifestyle, when film offers dwindle. This makes sex work look like any
other normal service industry.
The
profession is now less stigmatised than it previously was, thanks to the
growing reach and anonymity offered by the Internet. Buying and selling sex
online is now easy and discreet, luring many, including better educated women
to consider sex work for quick money.
Unfortunately,
Indian approach on the issue is rooted in moralising and views all forms of
commercial sex as products of trafficking. As the very name of the legislation
‘Immoral Trafficking (Prevention) Act,’ under which the actor was arrested,
shows.
Police
departments in ultra-conservative South India have dedicated anti-vice squads
(a term more reminiscent of Saudi Arabian moral police) whose members derive
vicarious pleasure in rounding up and shaming out-of-job actors in the name of
busting prostitution rackets, on a periodic basis, under the Act.
The
farce is all the more apparent as the police themselves admit the futility of
the exercise. “By registering cases under the Act, the police cannot solve the
problem. Less than ten cases ends up in conviction a year,” says a senior
official with the Chennai police.
Rehabilitation
programmes like the one which Shweta is reportedly undergoing too can be of
little help. Since the idea behind such programmes are to develop 'marketable
skills' that can wean the ‘victims’ away from prostitution, the utility of such
skills for a national award winning actor is
debatable.
In
enlightened Kerala, rehabilitation efforts once controversially focused on
turning prostitutes into washerwomen, as those who were involved in the project
felt that being a washerwoman was more dignified than being a prostitute.
Shweta, at least deserves better.