One way or another, the question of sexual violence has refused to go off the agenda in India in the last few years. Much of this is due to the relentless pressure from women’s groups to keep the issue alive — now that it is being talked about, now that the silence is broken, it must not be allowed to disappear.

But it is equally due also to the deep-seated anger and misogyny that fills the minds and hearts of so many of our people. Take the case of the most recent Narendra Modi campaign of #selfiewithdaughter . Hundreds of fathers (interesting that the Prime Minister did not think of selfies with mothers) sent in their pictures. But when feminists raised questions about the campaign itself (as activist Kavita Krishnan did), they faced abuse and venomous attacks, many of them carrying thinly-veiled sexual innuendo.

One of the offenders was the benign and benevolent looking ‘father figure’ of Star Plus serials, Alok Nath. Clearly, looks can be very deceptive — as the experience of so many women shows: much can be hidden behind the benevolence that we may not even dream of until confronted by it.

Alok Nath, and many others who attacked Kavita Krishnan in the abusive way they did, did not stop to ask themselves: how could they express such verbal violence towards a woman while at the same time claim to be proud fathers of daughters? Surely there is a connection somewhere that they are missing?

Indeed, although many fathers were quick to send in their pictures, not one of them raised the question: Where will change and improvement in women’s lives actually come from? It’s unlikely that a photo on social media will help — although it may not be entirely without the potential to add some kind of awareness — but there is no doubt that increases in the health and education budgets, coupled with campaigns to create more safety and security for girls and women will.

But this is what is not happening. Health and education budgets have been slashed, the number of rape crisis centres is down to less than a tenth of what was promised. Clearly the commitment is only photo-deep, a very thin layer indeed.

Selfies are not the only issue. Another question that’s been hotly debated is that of marital rape and whether or not it should have been included in the new (2013) law on sexual assault and rape. Predictably, the arguments have been fierce, mostly on the part of politicians, that law should not be allowed inside the bedroom, that marriage is a sacrament, that relations between husbands and wives are a ‘private affair’.

Whether or not the State, in terms of its institutional arms, in this case the law, has a place in the private lives of people, or inside the bedroom and the family, is something that has long been a subject of discussion among feminist groups and activists. It was after considerable thought and debate on this that women’s groups fought for the law on domestic violence, which, very firmly, brings the long arm of the law into people’s private lives.

Their continuing demand that marital rape be recognised as the crime that it is, comes out of the same thinking and out of overwhelming evidence that over 90 per cent of the sexual violence women (and some men) face is from known people and much of it within families and the home.

It also comes from another strong principle that those opposing the recognition of marital rape as a crime refuse to accept: that women are equal citizens of India and therefore individuals who have rights, just like their male counterparts do, to feel and be safe in all environments, whether private or public, in which they function. And that includes the right not to be violated physically or mentally, anywhere, at any time, in any circumstance. Just because marital rape takes place within the institution of marriage, supposedly something sacrosanct, does not mean it is not a crime.

Take a different, but parallel argument. Murder is a crime. Anywhere it takes place, whether at home or outside. Now imagine a scenario where a man forces his wife to have sex with him and if she refuses, he flies into a rage and kills her. Will we say that the first act, which led to the second, is not a crime, but the second one, inextricably connected to the first, is? Surely even the most vociferous defenders of the sanctity of marriage will see the irrationality of such arguments.

Nearly 70 years into our life as an independent nation, it’s time we recognised women as citizens of this country. Perhaps it’s time to stop taking selfies with them and defending their rights instead?

Urvashi Butaliais an editor, publisher and director of Zubaan

blink@thehindu.co.in