Becky Blab

The Guardian takes an in-depth look at the Gulabi Gang, the group of 500-plus female vigilantes from Bundelkhand, Uttar Pradesh. Not only is this the place where Phoolan Devi, the Bandit Queen of India is from as the article mentions, but also the Queen of Jhansi who notoriously fought the British for her kingdom. Coming from such a tradition, I suppose it is less surprising that these women have so forthrightly used force to combat corruption.

Products of this cruel environment, the hundreds of pink-clad women knew that their electricity supply had been disconnected by corrupt officials to extract bribes from them to get the power switched back on. With no functioning law to fall back on, they knew also that the only way to get a power supply was to take matters into their own hands. Within an hour of their absconding with the key, the electricity was restored.

The women have become folk heroes, winning public support for a series of Robin Hood-style operations. Their most daring exploit was to hijack trucks laden with food meant for the poor that was being taken to be sold for profit at the market by corrupt officials.

The targets of the Gulabi Gang’s vigilantism are corrupt officials and violent husbands. The gang has stopped child marriages, forced police officers to register cases of domestic violence - by slapping them - and got roads built by dragging the official responsible from his desk on to the dust track in question.

The article delves into more detail on the gang’s leader, Sampat Devi Pal. She sounds like such a formidable and scary woman!

In a place where expectation of female restraint is so faithfully observed, only someone as irascible as Pal could defy it.

“To face down men in this part of the world, you have to use force,” Pal says. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I have faith that justice will prevail.”It took Pal over a decade to muster the foot soldiers for the gang she now calls her “army”. Travelling from village to village, she amassed hundreds of female fans by belting out her repertoire of protest songs. “I wanted to lift them out of the black hole they’d been pushed into,” Pal says, like a true orator.

“I realised that if I could have this kind of control over women then I could get them out of the clutches of their husbands,” Pal says, narrowing her eyes. There is not the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

What is so amazing to me is the anomaly that the leader figure represents. Not only that one woman could be so unabiding to the expected norm, but also that she can mobilise hundreds of women to fight for her causes. As I said in my last post, it’s hard to agree with the use of force; that’s certainly not the way Gandhi did it. But when people are hungry and corrupt officials are selling off food intended for the poor, does that make force justified? Sounds just like the scenario of British colonialism in India.
In the past few months, the story of the gang has been reported in several UK news sources, but I only found this article from an Indian media source. More bits of fiction from the life of the gang’s leader include that she worked as the secretary of an NGO, Adivasi Mahila Uthhan Samiti (Tribal Women Development Society), and has been wooed by major political parties. Also interesting that the article says the gang only had 35 members, and that in recruitment each has to pay a registration fee to join.