The 20th century is infamous for wars and injustice. But in its defence it also produced stalwarts of human integrity. Case in point: Justice Anna Chandy (1905-1996), the first woman in India to become a judge of a high court. From arguing for gender equity in pay and employment to women’s contraceptive rights — her contribution to feminism and human rights is an ingenious legacy.
Justice Chandy’s childhood was spent in a predominantly women-led household in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala; her father passed away when she was quite young and matriliny was a customary tradition in her state. It is perhaps this upbringing of hers that undergirded her convictions in gender-equality. And, in the years to come she disarmingly shattered many glass-ceilings.
For instance, she became the first woman in Kerala to enrol in law college and earn a law degree. Was college welcoming of its newest incumbent? Not at all. But, she slapped back in distinctions what her juvenile peers served in mocking retorts. She joined the bar in 1929, 20 years later she became a district judge, and 10 years after she was appointed to the Kerala High Court as a judge. The sound of broken glass shards rang loud. Justice Chandy also dabbled in politics and was a member of the Shree Mulam Popular Assembly between 1932-34.
During her legal career, Justice Chandy garnered critical acclaim for her unyielding commitment to the principles of natural justice and for balancing the rights of the accused while also serving substantive justice. She would definitely shake her head in disdain if she saw the state of prisons today, what with the disproportionately high number of languishing undertrials.
Justice Chandy was a fierce advocate for women’s contraceptive rights. Although she first recommended abstinence as a form of birth-control, she later supported contraceptives on its premise of furthering women’s autonomy over their bodies. In fact, in a 1935 All India Women Congress meeting, Justice Chandy proposed a resolution for establishing country-wide birth control clinics and improving access to information on contraceptives for those seeking it. But, keeping this aside, there was one problematic contradiction in Justice Chandy’s brand of feminism: abortion.
She opined that “disrespecting” human life was incompatible with social values. Legal researchers attribute her conservatism to her Christian upbringing. And, she also defended the criminalisation of adultery, although rather progressively she argued that women should also equally be made culpable when they engaged in adultery. Her views on abortion were problematic then, but perhaps if she were alive today she would see the injustice in the overturning of Roe v. Wade and how such judgments defeat her own principles on women’s dignity and autonomy.
Besides contraception, Justice Chandy fought hard for women’s employment, equal wages and widow remarriage. She founded and edited ‘Shrimati’ a Malayali periodical to voice women's rights. She also befittingly punched a dent in the hollow arguments being made by a certain Velu Pillai (a Travancore-based legislator) against government employment for married women. Pillai’s argument was unsurprisingly basic: a wife’s employment posed a threat to her husbands’ self-respect and diverted her away from her duties as a wife. Justice Chandy rebutted his contentions on many fronts. First, self-respect was not the sole prerogative of a husband. Second, a wife’s contribution to the familial income would be helpful, if anything at all, especially where husbands were too ill or old. Third, the unintended consequence could be women refraining from marriage in order to work. And, that would certainly not dwell well for potential husbands, now would it?
And this is how she delivered logical arguments throughout her career, using the law and logic as instruments for equality. Post her retirement, she worked with the Law Commission of India and published her autobiography, ‘Aatmakatha’ before passing away in 1996. Today as we remember Justice Chandy we must also recognise how the total representation of women in the higher judiciary is abysmal (~10.6%) and all our Chief Justice’s have been cis-het men. While this needs to change, Justice Chandy’s legacy is everlasting.
In service of sisterhood, Tvesha Sippy
References:
https://www.barandbench.com/columns/justice-anna-chandy-the-pioneer-from-travancore-and-indias-first-female-judge
https://gcwtvm.ac.in/justice-anna-chandy/
https://thelogicalindian.com/history/anna-chandy-high-court-judge-30700
https://ir.library.osaka-u.ac.jp/repo/ouka/all/86400/oulr069-051.pdf
https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14649370500463125?journalCode=riac20
The 20th century is infamous for wars and injustice. But in its defence it also produced stalwarts of human integrity. Case in point: Justice Anna Chandy (1905-1996), the first woman in India to become a judge of a high court. From arguing for gender equity in pay and employment to women’s contraceptive rights — her contribution to feminism and human rights is an ingenious legacy.
Justice Chandy’s childhood was spent in a predominantly women-led household in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala; her father passed away when she was quite young and matriliny was a customary tradition in her state. It is perhaps this upbringing of hers that undergirded her convictions in gender-equality. And, in the years to come she disarmingly shattered many glass-ceilings.
For instance, she became the first woman in Kerala to enrol in law college and earn a law degree. Was college welcoming of its newest incumbent? Not at all. But, she slapped back in distinctions what her juvenile peers served in mocking retorts. She joined the bar in 1929, 20 years later she became a district judge, and 10 years after she was appointed to the Kerala High Court as a judge. The sound of broken glass shards rang loud. Justice Chandy also dabbled in politics and was a member of the Shree Mulam Popular Assembly between 1932-34.
During her legal career, Justice Chandy garnered critical acclaim for her unyielding commitment to the principles of natural justice and for balancing the rights of the accused while also serving substantive justice. She would definitely shake her head in disdain if she saw the state of prisons today, what with the disproportionately high number of languishing undertrials.
Justice Chandy was a fierce advocate for women’s contraceptive rights. Although she first recommended abstinence as a form of birth-control, she later supported contraceptives on its premise of furthering women’s autonomy over their bodies. In fact, in a 1935 All India Women Congress meeting, Justice Chandy proposed a resolution for establishing country-wide birth control clinics and improving access to information on contraceptives for those seeking it. But, keeping this aside, there was one problematic contradiction in Justice Chandy’s brand of feminism: abortion.
She opined that “disrespecting” human life was incompatible with social values. Legal researchers attribute her conservatism to her Christian upbringing. And, she also defended the criminalisation of adultery, although rather progressively she argued that women should also equally be made culpable when they engaged in adultery. Her views on abortion were problematic then, but perhaps if she were alive today she would see the injustice in the overturning of Roe v. Wade and how such judgments defeat her own principles on women’s dignity and autonomy.
Besides contraception, Justice Chandy fought hard for women’s employment, equal wages and widow remarriage. She founded and edited ‘Shrimati’ a Malayali periodical to voice women's rights. She also befittingly punched a dent in the hollow arguments being made by a certain Velu Pillai (a Travancore-based legislator) against government employment for married women. Pillai’s argument was unsurprisingly basic: a wife’s employment posed a threat to her husbands’ self-respect and diverted her away from her duties as a wife. Justice Chandy rebutted his contentions on many fronts. First, self-respect was not the sole prerogative of a husband. Second, a wife’s contribution to the familial income would be helpful, if anything at all, especially where husbands were too ill or old. Third, the unintended consequence could be women refraining from marriage in order to work. And, that would certainly not dwell well for potential husbands, now would it?
And this is how she delivered logical arguments throughout her career, using the law and logic as instruments for equality. Post her retirement, she worked with the Law Commission of India and published her autobiography, ‘Aatmakatha’ before passing away in 1996. Today as we remember Justice Chandy we must also recognise how the total representation of women in the higher judiciary is abysmal (~10.6%) and all our Chief Justice’s have been cis-het men. While this needs to change, Justice Chandy’s legacy is everlasting.
In service of sisterhood, Tvesha Sippy
References:
https://www.barandbench.com/columns/justice-anna-chandy-the-pioneer-from-travancore-and-indias-first-female-judge
https://gcwtvm.ac.in/justice-anna-chandy/
https://thelogicalindian.com/history/anna-chandy-high-court-judge-30700
https://ir.library.osaka-u.ac.jp/repo/ouka/all/86400/oulr069-051.pdf
https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/14649370500463125?journalCode=riac20
.png)
