Girls, if you do happen to win a big medal, or an Oscar, please don’t thank your dad in your acceptance speech. For there’s a high chance your dad’s contribution will be dismissed as a ‘patriarchal favour’. And his efforts can even be accused of being a patriarchal conspiracy.
As is happening during the post-mortem of Dangal, a movie based on the real life story of Mahavir Phogat, a former wrestler who trained six female international-level wrestlers , four of whom were his own daughters, and later trained many more. The location of this incredible story: A tiny village called Balali in Haryana, ridden with misogyny and a general disdain of daughters.
But some are accusing Daring Daddy of being a domineering egotist, who doesn’t give his daughters any agency.
Hell, we even have somebody who says: “Tiger Dad Mahavir Singh Phogat uses physical and psychological abuse to bend his daughters to his will.”
Firstly, I don’t know if terming physical training, ‘abuse’ is entirely correct. If sportspeople’s rigorous training is called physical abuse, and their setting tough goals for themselves is psychological abuse, then aren’t we being extremely liberal with our adjectives?
The movie has a scene where Mahavir Phogat says he can either be a father or a coach. And having an indulgent coach doesn’t help your case if you are aspiring to be an Olympian!
Plus, to contest the notion that the daughters didn’t have any agency, the film establishes that Geeta Phogat, the eldest daughter, and Babita, the younger daughter, willingly make a commitment to themselves to devote their life to pehelwani. A feminist movie acknowledges the will of the female characters, and the movie delivers it in that sequence.
The Biggest Gift a Parent Can Give a Child is Belief
Perhaps the biggest gift that Mahavir Phogat gives to his daughters - that many critics missed in the movie - is that he believes in his daughters when no one else does. He believes his daughters are destined for greatness. Is that a patriarchal trait? Certainly not to me. Now you may dismiss that as a ‘favour’, I say it is a duty many mothers and fathers even in urban India fail to perform.
Bear in mind that the women’s competition in wrestling was introduced only 12 years ago in 2004. Since then, Mahavir Phogat, inspired by his guru Chandgi Ram, gave Indian women the belief that they too could enter the male fiefdom of a Dangal. Many young girls in small villages today aspire to be international wrestlers and want to be like“Geeta Didi”. If that’s not empowering, I don’t know what is.
When dismissing the Phogats’ struggles and achievement, we make the mistake of failing to acknowledge the individual struggles for the upliftment of women in different parts of the country. We make the mistake of not understanding the intentions of those feminists who aren’t urban educated. We need to acknowledge the different challenges Indian women face according to their religion, location and ethnicity. We have to applaud their achievements - even if they don’t pass all our feminist checklists. Because even though Mahavir Phogat may not be the ambassador-in-chief of the feminist movement, together him and his daughters have achieved what few others have.
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)