Abstract
As divorce rates appear to rise amongst South Asian communities in Britain the repercussions for their members remain invisible and neglected in the research literature. The paper argues that this oversight needs to be addressed as it explores the findings from two separate studies to highlight some of the possible ramifications of divorce on South Asian women. The experiences presented here show that whilst divorce can have the most devastating effects on women in terms of their exclusion, it also presents some opportunities and optimism for their future. Furthermore, divorced women can not only bring positive change to their own lives, but also in the process, transform the cultures in which they live.
Introduction
British discourses on divorce are well rehearsed in examining its impact on children, the wider family relationships, employment and care (Wade and Smart, 2002; Williams, 2004; Neal et al., 2003) but they preclude the experiences of divorce in other cultures, particularly minority ethnic groups. This paper discusses some exploratory ideas and experiences of a small number of divorced Punjabi women of Sikh, Indian origins and concludes that whilst divorce exposes women to many forms of social and cultural exclusion it also presents them with opportunities.
Amongst the mainstream statistical sources divorce rates for minority ethnic communities are difficult to find, but there are indications that although Sikhs and Hindus have higher rates of divorce, separation and single parenthood 2 compared to Muslim families, the overall rates amongst South Asian 3 communities are low in relation to the general population (Modood et al., 1997; Berthoud, 2000; Summerfield and Gill, 2005; Babb et al., 2006). Apart from this information there is no specific data distinguishing ethnic variations in divorce patterns. Anecdotal evidence, nevertheless, suggests that divorce rates among South Asian communities are rising (Doug, 2006; Rani, 2007). However, exploration of the effects of divorce on settled migrant communities is conspicuously absent.
In Britain, studies of South Asian families focus primarily on the racist pathologisation of Asian cultures, highlighting the intersection of race, gender and class oppressions and women's resistance against these (Wilson, 2006; Gupta, 2003). Ethnographic studies focus on the management of migration by South Asian families (Khan, 1979; Bhachu, 1985) and the subsequent experiences of racism and sexism encountered vis-à-vis the state, labour market, trade unions, housing and access to services (Mama, 1989; Wilson, 1978; Third, 1995; Chahal, 2003 and 2004). There has also been some focus on experiences of marriage and cohabitation (Bhopal, 1997) and sources of support during marital discord (Goodwin, et al., 1997) but these do not include divorce. Pettigrew's study (2003) focuses on South Asian lone parents but the aim here is to elicit their views on income maintenance and benefits rather than their everyday experiences and the impact of divorce. This dearth reflects the invisibility of Black women in mainstream debates (Mirza, 2003) and prevents our understanding of how factors such as culture, class, race and gender intersect to define the transition from marriage to divorce (Kitson et al., 1985).
Divorce and South Asian women
In the West, the link between marriage and respectability has relatively weakened during the 20th century, although negative discourses on divorce persist, blaming and excluding women from social interaction (Sandfield, 2006). In South Asian cultures marriage is an economic and social bond between families. Although the dissolution of marriage is permitted in Indian civil law, Hinduism and Sikhism consider marriage to be sacrosanct. Neither Hinduism nor Sikhism has any edicts on divorce but the practice of sati (the widow burning herself on her husband's funeral pyre) was common in Hinduism until it was banned under British rule in India. Sikhism permits widow remarriage, particularly under the customary practice of ‘chaddar’ (translated as a ‘bed sheet’) where a man may offer a woman protection, particularly when he is the brother of the dead husband. But the strong sanctity of marriage in Hinduism and Sikhism makes tacit their repugnance towards divorce. Islam, on the other hand, permits divorce but usually divorced women survive only if supported by male family members (Moghissi, 1999; Warraich, 2005) and women continue to fear the prospect of divorce because it may tarnish their own reputations and in particular that of their daughters (Choudhary, 1996). As such, the different religious precepts are united in their exaltation of ‘purity’ and ‘fidelity’ of women, as mothers and wives, and in their attack against those who deviate from social norms. As in many other cultures, these norms define women essentially as wives, mothers, daughters and sisters, whose sexuality is seen to be in need of control.
In South Asian cultures women's sexuality is controlled through notions of izzat (honour dignity, chastity, virtue) and sharam (shame, shyness and modesty), both inextricably tied to male protection; they serve as ‘codes of honour’ to underpin ideal notions of femininity (Welchman and Hossain, 2005; Wilson, 1978 and 2006). Through their roles within the family and the community women become the primary purveyors of culture; women's bodies and conduct symbolize and demarcate culture/caste/‘race’/class boundaries. As such they are the subject of much public and private scrutiny as well as self-policing, particularly when these notions are internalised (Yuval-Davis and Werbner, 1997; Moghissi, 1999). The crossing of defined limits, particularly by women without male protection, may invite community hostility and accusations of promiscuity, as well as sexual advances and possibly exploitation (Wilson, 2006: 9–10). The alarming cases of Surjit Atwhal in 1998 and Rukhshana Naz in 1999, illustrate the strength of notions of family ‘shame’ and dishonour' as both women were respectively murdered by their marital and natal families because they expressed a wish to divorce their husbands. They serve as a dire warning to women who may want to sever their marital ties.
Indeed, demands for divorce, as a form of self-determination, may be construed by particular family and community members as a direct threat to family and community honour. Control over women's sexuality and mobility is particularly likely to increase when communities begin to close in on themselves due to perceived external threats to their cohesion, especially from western influences (Yuval-Davis and Werbner, 1997; Moghissi, 1999). In some Muslim countries, for instance, a move towards fundamentalism has seen an attack on the rights of women to divorce and have custody of children (Agarwal, 1990; Jahan, 1990; Afsher, 1990; Moghissi, 1999). It is possible that the current attacks on multiculturalism and minority cultures witnessed in the wake of the ‘war on terror’, which have propelled the growth of fundamentalism and inward looking communities, may well explain some of the increases in honour killings.
Crimes in the name of honour are rooted in cultural traditions, not religious beliefs; the conflation of the concepts of culture and religion contributes to the misunderstanding of such crimes, particularly in the context of Islamophobia and the ‘war on terror’. The recent agenda on ‘preventing extremism’ dangerously elides terrorists, Islam and certain forms of violence against women, especially forced marriage and crimes in the name of honour (Sen and Kelly, 2007: 22).
Divorced women, often endure much hardship and exclusion if they are seen to deviate from the conventional family and have little male protection from their natal families. This, of course, does not apply to all South Asian women in equal measure since gender relations are shaped by a variety of factors such as race, class, region, religion, age and other differentiations. Women may be able to negotiate different levels of ‘accommodation’ and support within their own families, but they are all subjected to the pervasive, overarching, but changing gender ideology. For instance, Bhopal (1997) 4 found that the more educated and financially independent young, British born, South Asian women who chose to cohabit or to remain single escaped labels of dishonour by moving away from their communities.
The simultaneous racism and sexism of the state also shapes many South Asian marriages where one partner may have migrated for the purpose of marriage; in such cases divorce raises not only personal difficulties but also concerns for immigration status of the non-British spouse as s/he becomes liable for deportation if the marriage breaks down within two years. As such because individuals cannot have legal ‘recourse to public funds’ they are often left destitute and without financial and emotional support 5 (Gupta, 2003). Women must therefore not only suffer the castigation and vilification of their communities but also, simultaneously, defend themselves against state racism, whilst safeguarding their physical and economic survival (Gupta, 2003).
In South Asia, in strong patrilineal cultures, it is the women who are uprooted in both marriage and divorce, as it is they who are respectively required to join or leave the marital home (Amato, 1994). Whist this practice may have changed in Britain, particularly as women sponsoring husbands from abroad may find that it is not financially viable to move away from their parental home at least in the early stages of marriage, upon divorce, living in the parental home may be considered a burden and mistreatment and exploitation may follow, as studies in India show (Liddle and Joshi, 1986; Gheewala, 2004). Hence, in many cases divorced women may choose to live independently and in Britain, despite the fact that many South Asian women continue to have low incomes within the labour market (Clark and Drinkwater, 2007), welfare benefits do offer an independent source of income. This relative economic independence may prevent total dependence upon their families, but the consequences of divorce for many are the same – ostracism, rejection and marginalisation from the family and community. Divorce has repercussions for women and for their relationships with their families and children. Choudhary (1996: 2), in her study of domestic violence, talked to Pakistani women about possibilities of divorce; she states:
The women explained that when a Pakistani woman leaves her husband, even if he is violent, she is seen as having dishonoured not only her in-laws but also her own family. Consequently, she is likely to be left without any family or community support …
Choudhary notes that the transference of dishonour from the mother to the child means that women fear divorce and separation because they do not want to jeopardise their daughters' chances of marriage. A BBC documentary on South Asian women divorcees reported the blame and stigma families attached to their ‘disobedient’ daughters, branded as ‘un-cooperative’, ‘abandoned women’, unwilling to ‘put up’ with unhappy marriages (Roshan Doug, BBC Radio 4, 30.1.06). Doug found that in addition to the financial hardship caused by divorce, women felt isolated, lonely, confused and guilty and were excluded from social events; this isolation was extended to their children. However, some women gradually found limited practical and emotional support from their families, friends and occasionally, formal support.
Generally, the cumulative loss of marriage, of the spouse role and other associated relationships often results in an extensive period of grief akin to mourning, characterised by depression, loss of self esteem and confidence (Sakraida, 2005; Sandfield, 2006). At the same time, whilst this may be true for some women, for others divorce can present a life-time opportunity to rediscover themselves (Baum et al., 2005). It can be a time of resilience, to realise one's potential, build confidence, make new relationships and friendships and to develop a critical consciousness about the social and cultural environment in which one lives. The responses and strategies to manage divorce may be dependent upon wider social forces such as class, education, age and the specific elements such as the passage of time and one's beliefs, attitudes, the available support mechanisms and whether one is an initiator or non-initiator of divorce (Sakraida, 2005).
Some experiences of divorced women
This article reports on two studies which highlighted the experiences of a small number of women who were divorced or in the process of being divorced. It draws attention to their struggles for control over their own financial positions, sexuality and the availability of social support and recounts the potential impact of their experiences on their subsequent beliefs and attitudes towards cultural practices, and on their children's life choices. The paper argues that divorce presents opportunities for self expression and change and that it has the potential to transform the cultures which South Asian women inhabit. However, these were very tentative, exploratory studies and in no way seek to represent the experiences of all women. The respondents discussed here are first generation women who were new to the daunting legal and welfare systems and employment structures; they were less able, than some of their younger counterparts may be, to access the better labour market opportunities. Also, the secure immigration status of the women discussed here meant that their lives were uncomplicated by the additional issues of possible deportations and the extra shame and dishonour which other women subjected to such regulations may have to endure.
Given the paucity of British based literature, the examples illustrated are drawn from two separate broader studies conducted at very different times, within a West Midlands city in Britain. The earlier study conducted in 1981 was for a PhD thesis (Guru, 1988) which looked at the experiences of women in terms of employment, immigration, relationships within the family, domestic violence and political activity. It was based on 86 Punjabi Indian (mainly Sikh) women aged between seventeen and sixty-eight. Fourteen of these respondents were separated or divorced, but only those that were either divorced or engaged in divorce litigations (6) have been included in this paper. The latter study, in 2000, was part of the Open University's National Everyday Cultures Programme and examined the concept of femininity across three generations of Punjabi, Sikh women and girls, between the ages of seven and sixty-nine (Guru, 2003). It was based on eighteen women, in 6 family units. 6 In both studies, divorced women formed only a minority of the sample. The periods of divorce ranged from two to twenty-four years, all having divorced in the 1980s. In all but two cases (Shindo and Jasvir) divorce proceedings had been initiated by the women themselves and domestic violence was the major cause of the marital breakdowns. The experiences of the two cohorts, therefore, have to be interpreted against the backdrop of time scales, as the group interviewed later will have had more time to adjust and reflect upon their life events than those interviewed in 1981. As Baum et al. (2005: 50) suggest, change happens over ‘a prolonged process and is unlikely to be observed in the immediate aftermath of divorce when many women are still occupied with the psychological separation from their ex-spouse’.
All the respondents are given pseudonyms.
Balbir, Shindo and Jasvir were interviewed in 1981. Balbir was born in India but had been brought up in the UK and had left school to get married. She was 30 years of age at the time and having worked in a local factory was now unemployed and on welfare benefits. She had been divorced for two years and lived alone with her 9 year old daughter and 7 year old son.
Shindo was also in her early 30s; she had come to the UK for marriage and had received some basic education in India. She was separated and awaiting her divorce. She lived alone with her 7 year old daughter and was on welfare benefits. She had in the past worked in a sweatshop and also in her husband's business.
Jasvir was in her late 30s and had been separated for almost five years and was awaiting divorce. She was illiterate in Punjabi and English and had never received any education. She had no children and had never been employed. After a period of stay in a women's refuge she now lived alone and was on welfare benefits.
Guddi, in her late 20s had been divorced for three years and lived with her father and other younger siblings. She did not have any children and was an ‘unskilled’ worker in a local factory.
Parminder and Ranjana were part of the 2000 sample. Parminder was in her late 40s; she had originally come from Kenya in the late 1960s for marriage. She had been schooled in Kenya and came to the UK for a holiday but stayed and married. She had three grown-up daughters and had been divorced for seven years before she remarried. Parminder was a lecturer in a Further Education college.
Ranjana was also in her late 40s; she had come to the UK to marry and had received basic education in India. She had three grown-up children, two daughters and a son. She had been divorced for 24 years and lived with her son. She worked in a local factory but also supplemented this income by singing.
The stories of these women do not deny the reality of the grief and torment that divorce and separation can bring, but they also highlight the positive outcomes that divorce can present. The major emerging themes are that women became financially and socially independent and more critical of the cultural precepts by which they felt controlled.
Independence
Feminists have long argued that women's subordination rests on two important factors: male control over women's economic resources and over their sexuality (Young et al., 1981; Moghissi, 1999; Yuval-Davis and Werbner, 1999; Wilson, 2006). Economic independence is therefore an important precursor for autonomy in other areas.
Previous studies have shown that the type of financial systems employed by couples rely on a combination of factors such as the level of income, employment and social class, education and age (Wilson, 1987; Vogler and Pahl, 1994). Bhopal (1997) found that South Asian women in her study tended to share decisions about family expenditure, regardless of whether or not they had separate or joint accounts with their husbands. Women with their own higher earnings felt they had the right to spend them as they liked, whilst those with low earnings and reliant upon their husbands' incomes had little control over the household expenditure. Hence, women's earnings are not always their own and even when they have full control they are likely to spend on the family, rather than on themselves (Morris, 1984; Bhachu, 1988). There is little research on culture and differences in domestic finance but in some South Asian extended families it is likely that within their marital family, women's capacity to earn does not ensure that they have ready access to their income since it can be controlled by other members of the family. This is confirmed by literature on lone parents generally, in that women often feel that they are ‘better off poorer’ than when with their partners, because they have better access to and control over their income (Land, 1994 and Rowlingson and McKay, 2002). From the experiences outlined below, it is clear that compared to their pre-divorce positions women were financially better off after the divorce.
Balbir's situation is resonant of many other women in the extended family unit. She was now in control of her welfare benefits but before marriage her income went to her own parents and after marriage to her in laws.
My husband never supported me. I used to give my wage packet to my mother-in-law. I daren't open it … (Balbir interviewed in 1981).
Shindo also felt that her basic needs were better met when she had separated from her family:
I used to have to go without food some days. I'm happy now, at least we eat properly … (Shindo interviewed in 1981).
The income women earn may contribute to the general household economy and unless they have a level of control over how this is spent they are unlikely to reap any direct benefit from their efforts. However, moving away from a joint family income can reduce the overall standard of living for both women and their children and create additional financial pressures; but it can also provide opportunities.
Ranjana had continued to work in the same factory as she had before her divorce but found that it was no longer sufficient to support her and her three children. Her resourcefulness eventually led her to be able to support them well but before such a time she had to struggle extremely hard to provide a decent standard of living for all:
Financially, I had to take 3 jobs at a time sometimes to survive. My full time job and two other cleaning jobs which I did after work in the evening. These are times I have also seen; it was not until I got into singing that I could afford to live a decent standard of life and give my children good clothes and things (Ranjana interviewed in 2000).
After an initial struggle to make ends meet Ranjana was able to discover another method of supplementing her income and became resourceful in maintaining her family in a way which may not have been feasible if she had stayed with her husband; he would not have wished for her to pursue a singing career for which she had a burning ambition.
Parminder's experience also presented a new opportunity. After her divorce she found herself better off once she tapped into skills developed during her childhood. She had no formal qualifications but had skills in embroidery and sewing which she felt her father had inspired in her as a young girl through creative play. She decided to make tapestries which came to the notice of the local community development officers and she was subsequently asked to present exhibitions for schools. Through this channel, with support from friends, Parminder found a part-time teaching job to teach crafts at a Further Education college.
Hence, divorce does mean a possible reduction in women's household income but if they have no previous control over the resources then an income and a household of their own can set them free to explore more positive experiences and expressions of themselves.
Once economic independence was achieved women began to feel more confident and experience the benefits of having some autonomy in their lives, perhaps for the first time. Balbir felt that having her own household gave her the freedom she had not seen before.
I'm more independent now. When I was with my family and husband's family, I couldn't go out when and where I wanted. When my friends came to see me, I felt guilty – that they shouldn't be there. Now I can go where I like and entertain as I like (Balbir interviewed in 1981)
These findings show that women value their freedom to express themselves in terms of their financial positions, physical movement, domestic arrangements and their social networks.
Sexuality
For women who feel constrained by their families, living alone presents both relief from oppressive constraints of the family, as well as perils: at times, it exposes them to predatory men who may see women living alone as an invitation for sexual exploitation. Male control over women's sexuality is a key contributor to the oppression and exploitation of women. A woman's body is the vessel for the production, perpetuation and purity of the ‘race’ and culture and as such she is controlled as ‘a possession of the community’ to ensure that racial and cultural boundaries are firmly controlled and not crossed without disgrace (Yuval-Davis, 1997: 22; Wilson, 2006: 10). A respectable woman is one who avoids eye contact with unrelated men, is modest in her attire and does not flaunt her ‘dangerous’ sexuality. Her honour, prestige and reputation (izzat and sharam) are closely tied to the representation of her body and to the male protection that she finds. Women without the defence of men can be left extremely vulnerable and easy sexual targets.
This is borne out by Shindo:
… I never wanted to leave home. I never WANTED to leave … it's difficult for women to live alone, economically and morally. There is always the fear of being attacked by men when you live alone … (Shindo, interviewed in 1981).
Since a married woman's identity is defined through her husband and his monopoly over her sexuality, a divorced woman's sexuality is socially suppressed and becomes a threat to the social order and therefore in need of control. For this reason, Balbir felt that the public gaze was always upon her:
If I wear make-up, people would say ‘who are you doing it for?’ If I don't, they pity me (Balbir, interviewed in 1981).
Whether or not explicit comments of this nature were made to Balbir, she herself became engaged in her own policing and was careful not to attract male attention to herself.
For many years, Parminder's husband had been very violent towards her and had not trusted her to go out to work because he felt that she might be having ‘affairs’ with other men. Fuelled by this, Parminder found that members of her own and her husband's family kept her under their constant gaze and also advised her that she should remain with her abusive husband. Rather than believe her, the families had severed contact with her; instead of supporting her they were instrumental in spreading mendacious gossip that presented her as ‘promiscuous’. She therefore had to be extremely careful not to give any cause for gossip or rumour that might taint and ruin her reputation. However these concerns did not paralyse her life, as will become clear later.
Ranjana actually became vulnerable to predatory men. After her divorce, she had trained as a professional singer to fulfil her long held passion and to financially support her family. But this was not possible without public scrutiny:
Neighbours were always on the look out about what I was doing, how I was living… .
… I did have relationships with men but they were all married. What I found was that only married men were willing to have a relationship with me and that too on the side. I never had any single man approach me. People say women like me can't keep relationships but they don't understand that it is not because we don't want to; it's because there are no suitable men who want us enough to settle down with us. I have a relationship now; he is married but he is the only one who has supported me financially. All the others never did; all they wanted was sex; that was not going to support me financially (Ranjana interviewed in 2000).
Thus, it can be extremely difficult for divorced mothers with young children to find new male partners who will give them respectability and this leaves women open to sexual abuse and exploitation. This may lead some women to conclude that they may prefer to remain single and free of male control.
Balbir was adamant about retaining her independence as a woman in her own right:
I just want to be independent, not remarry. I feel strongly against that. For women it's difficult to live alone. People talk about you more easily if you're alone. A man on his own only has to think of himself. Women have a lower position in society; we're not considered equals. Only in our society it's like this. They're backward and they don't change and they stick to old beliefs and customs. Men are always telling women what to do. Women haven't the moral support to fight (Balbir, interviewed in 1981).
It is evident that whilst life apart from and independent of the control of natal or marital families presented women with autonomy it also presented them with dangers and vulnerability, which they had to manage carefully in ways that did not taint their own reputation or that of their children. Over time and with appropriate support, however, the obstacles presented in women's path could be overcome.
Social support
Along with economic security, social support is a crucial factor in enabling divorced women to overcome the negative experiences they may have had with their husbands and in-laws. This may take the form of practical support such as help with childcare and accommodation or emotional and psychological support, for example, being included in leisure activities, having someone who can listen and with whom problems can be talked through and discussed (Sakraida, 2005).
Social support can help women to transform their lives as it can make them feel that they are nevertheless loved, cared for, esteemed and valued. This support is best enhanced when family members provide tacit understanding and assistance. In some cases, however, women are unlikely to get family support during the process of separation or divorce and this may leave them isolated. Family support services for minority ethnic families in general are found to have been lacking (Qureshi et al., 2000) and for divorced women are almost non-existent; this is likely to leave women more vulnerable.
Balbir's parents were antagonistic towards her leaving her violent husband. Whilst she now had a good relationship with them she felt that she had been more valued as a married daughter and that divorce had relegated her to a position where she was considered a burden and blamed by both sides of the family divide:
People on his side think I was wrong. My own family have become hard to get on with since I left him. They think I've lost my respect. When I was with my husband they would ask my opinion on everything. Now, nothing; anything I say I have to think twice so that I shouldn't offend them. I mean, my parents are supposed to help me. They think I'm a burden on them. But I'm not. They don't support me financially (Balbir, interviewed in 1981).
Where family support fails, women may turn to other places and seek succour elsewhere, within or outside their communities, if they are not to be left deflated, demotivated and guilt ridden.
This was true in Ranjana's case. She had been divorced for twenty-four years and had none of her natal family in the UK. Having arrived at the age of fifteen for marriage to a widower with five children, she eventually had three children of her own with him. Whilst she was married Ranjana worked in a local factory and supported the family, however, due to domestic violence the marriage did not survive and she moved out with her three children, with the support of a local South Asian advice agency which helped to re-house her and put her in touch with other women in a similar situation. Ranjana had always had a love of singing but she had never mentioned this desire to anyone before for fear that it would elicit rebuke, since it is generally considered a disgraceful profession for women. After her separation and divorce she came into contact with women whom she was not likely to have met had she remained with her husband:
… I made some good friends with women who were in the same situation as me and we supported each other (Ranjana interviewed in 2000).
In her new networks she encountered some welfare advice workers who helped her with her divorce and also facilitated her ability to develop links with people who could help her to train professionally as a singer, which in turn enabled her to provide support for her family. Another circle of friends she met through a women's refuge group enabled her to talk through the problems that she faced because they shared the same experiences. Where such support is lacking women may seek support from outside their cultural spheres.
During her life as a divorced woman and a single parent, Parminder found no support from any of her family networks. After 11 years of marriage, she eventually decided to separate and divorce her husband. By this time she also had three daughters. Throughout her violent relationship with her husband, her mother, brothers, sisters and in-laws had advised her to stay in the marriage, but failed to support her:
When I told them what was happening, they knew, but they just stopped coming to my house and their attitude was that ‘leave them alone, it's their affair’ (Parminder, interviewed in 2000).
However, after the divorce, during her training for further education Parminder found enormous support for her work from both white and Asian colleagues. Within the domestic arena her support came from a white elderly neighbour who provided her practical assistance by looking after the children whilst Parminder undertook evening classes and studies.
Thus, where the support from women's own families was limited, separation from their marital families allowed the respondents to develop a new network of friends and opened up opportunities which may not have been otherwise possible.
Critical consciousness and awareness
Divorced women may have to struggle to gain their physical, economic and sexual independence, but despite the constraints upon their freedom, they do, in many cases, succeed. In looking at gender ideology and its overwhelming support for marriage and domesticity, it is important to see how women manage to break free from its hold. The concept of critical consciousness (Freire, 1972) refers to the development of a critical awareness of oppressive social structures and cultural norms and a resistance against these. It is often used to understand the transformation of oppressed groups from oppression to empowerment and self-determination.
Liddle and Joshi (1986: 174) found that women often became critical of gender ideology when their own experiences contradicted the social expectations and attitudes which others attempted to impose upon them. As such divorce is a life changing event, where interpretations of it being an act of deviance may not accord with women's own perceptions of their actions. Divorce, coupled with an independent means of livelihood and social support, can act as an anchor and a catalyst to developing a positive and an improved self-concept that triggers a critical and an independent worldview. This may make divorced women more aware of gender issues and contribute to an increasing social consciousness which augments personal insight and fosters empowerment so that they are no longer afraid to deviate from normative values (Sakraida, 2005). 7 In relation to the women reported here, it seems that although they were all critical of the various family members whilst in their marriages, after divorce they became more critical of their position as women within their own cultures and of gender inequalities.
Jasvir's husband and his family had tormented her because she did not have any children. She recalled:
… He wanted to remarry and I wouldn't sign the divorce papers. Then he sent me to India and left me there… . The family beat me and threw me out. I was so badly beaten, my case was in the papers … They locked me in one time, and starved me, threatened me with a hot ‘tava’ (a chapatti griddle) … there were times when they didn't allow me to bathe… . I never thought all this would happen. I was afraid of what people would say: ‘his wife’, ‘his daughter’, ‘always wandering the streets’. Our ‘samaj’ [society] says women shouldn't leave home; but what does ‘samaj’ say when women are thrown out? (Jasvir, interviewed in 1981).
Hence the cultural hostility that some divorced women face from within their own communities may provide the impetus to question and to be critical of their cultures. Past experiences, however, may also impinge upon and enhance how women manage adverse situations.
Parminder's experience of the collusion of her own extended family and her in-laws with her husband's accusations about her alleged promiscuity led her to divorce and to leave with her three children. The experiences of divorce and single motherhood had changed her perceptions about Asian culture, where she had been taught that adherence to traditional cultural and gender values would reward her with respectability and support. However, the loyalty of staying within her violent marriage for eleven years had brought her no support and she sought assistance elsewhere and married a white man, whom she found to be sympathetic and more understanding.
Parminder was clear that her strength and resilience came from the tools she had acquired in East Africa, from her liberal father who had died when she was fifteen years of age.
I remember my father's words: ‘Do what you believe is right, work hard, and be honest’. My father brought us up all equally: he never distinguished between boys and girls in any significant way… . He was … keen on all of us getting a good education, but the first four children didn't want to study and I was fifth in position and he really stressed that my young brother and I should do as much as we could … (Parminder, interviewed in 2000).
Parminder's early marriage, after her father's death, resulted in the termination of her studies and a violent and difficult marriage for the next eleven years left her struggling for survival. However, she was not ‘bitter’ about the negative aspects of her culture; but she was critical. She continued to present and think of Indian Punjabi culture as positive overall, but did not hesitate from challenging and openly defying its oppressive expectations and ideals. Whilst waiting at a bus stop she was once criticized by a Sikh priest for having cut her hair (this is unacceptable for orthodox Sikhs, particularly for women). A few months earlier Parminder had seen a television documentary on Sikh priests being involved in the sexual abuse of women. She gave him a cutting reply that asked him to address the concerns of his own profession, rather than to ‘humiliate others for their appearance’.
You talk about cutting hair? Have you heard about what the priests are doing to young girls while pretending to give them spiritual guidance? Did you see the programme on how they rape and sexually abuse women and girls? Go and see to them first. Having my hair cut is much more respectable that what is going on in your circles (Parminder, interviewed in 2000).
Through the years that Parminder had followed the advice of her family to remain with her abusive husband she had discovered that her own family members had not actually provided her with any emotional (or financial) support. Years of struggling against the hypocrisy of patriarchal values had helped Parminder to gain strength in standing firm in her own choice and life-style as she drew upon her father's values. These experiences also reflected in how she responded to the choices and aspirations of her own children. One of Parminder's daughters (Simi) had chosen to cohabit with her boyfriend – a rare, but increasing (Bhopal, 1997), practice within the South Asian communities. Parminder had accepted the cohabitation wholeheartedly and was not afraid of the community.
I would rather see her happy than be stuck in a marriage for marriage sake. It's only a piece of paper … What protection does it offer you? (Parminder, interviewed in 2000).
Parminder's tacit support for her daughter's chosen life-style may also have helped the fact that Simi received no disapproval from the community or the extended family, apart from her father (Parminder's ex-husband) who had disassociated himself from his daughter for this reason.
Divorce had also changed Ranjana's life for the better as she became independent in her singing career, of which she had only dreamed before. With regards to her own children Ranjana had learned through her experiences that it was important for her children, now as men and women in their own right, to be independent; she exerted no pressures upon them to conform to conventional standards of behaviour. She had found the strength to support one of her own daughters, Kiran, by giving her and her Muslim boyfriend a home. When Kiran decided to marry the same boyfriend she stood by her, despite potential taunts and harangues from the community. Ranjana's other daughter, Leena, was also divorced and lived alone. She treated Leena as an independent woman and did not wish to control her movement. She was fearless about whatever the future brought.
She is an adult – a woman now and knows what is good and bad for her. I have all the confidence in her that she will make the right decisions – and if she should make a mistake it doesn't matter, we all do, and I will still be here for her (Ranjana, interviewed in 2000).
In most families the decision to remarry is likely to be negotiated with the women themselves, but in others there may be little choice, as Guddi's case illustrates.
Guddi, who lived with her father and younger siblings, was being pressurized by all the family members to remarry, after her first marriage – to a man whom she sponsored from India upon the insistence of her parents – had failed after a year. They felt it was important for her to remarry in order secure the marriage potentials of her younger sisters. Despite her contestations Guddi had been forced to sponsor someone again and she had even secretly written to the Home Office to express her real feelings, urging them to refuse the application. Her father discovered her protest and she was persecuted for her ‘insolence’ and for being ‘incapable of keeping a husband’. She repeatedly stressed:
I don't want to get married. It'll be only the same thing again. I'll be used again. My ‘fiancé’ wants to come here; he'll have his stay and then won't even give me any thought … and they say I'm being difficult … All I want is to be left alone … If I can handle him [father], the others will follow him, you see. It's him. He wants to get rid of me. I can understand his point of view, but it's not what I want. I did it once and it failed; I don't want to give it another try. I'm happy on my own (Guddi, interviewed in 1981).
Guddi's experiences had heightened her awareness about the power dynamics in her family and of the dominance of her father, as well as the impact of cultural norms that affected her and her siblings. However, she was adamant not to sacrifice her own needs for the benefit of the family and to her own detriment, again.
The ability of women to use their experiences of oppression and subordination to a positive end, to challenge and transform cultural prescriptions is echoed by Rabina, a victim of domestic violence who had left her husband and escaped. In a television programme she had this to say:
For the sake of honour women tolerate violence – the honour of the family and community. I don't even know what izzat is, you should ask men. If they think that women are their izzat, then why do they throw us out? If they want their izzat, they shouldn't hit women … how long will an individual suffer? Oppression is not only to oppress. To be oppressed and to do nothing about it is also oppression. Women must not fear or think that they can't live without a man. There is life without men also. The men in the community will not support women's issues, because they themselves are men. They want to oppress us, but now that time is gone. We know what to do about it. (A Fearful Silence. Channel 4, Dispatches, August 1986).
These examples illustrate that despite the isolation and ostracism that divorced women face from their communities, and the devastation caused by divorce itself, women can emerge stronger, more independent and autonomous beings, capable of taking a stance against their oppressive cultural traditions and in the process, transform their lives and their cultures in turn.
Discussion
Generally, divorce affects men and women in different ways, not only in the sense that women and children are more likely to suffer financially but also because the psychological and social effects on women are likely to be stronger, as it is they who are more likely to be held responsible for the marital breakdown and to internalise such suggestions (Sandfield, 2006). Whilst this situation is expected to occur in most cultures there are also cultural variations. However, little attention is paid to this aspect. In South Asian cultures where divorce largely remains intrinsically linked to notions of shame and dishonour and where the stigma extends beyond the women to their children and their own parents and possibly siblings, the possibilities of ostracism and exclusion from the community are very real. Under such circumstances South Asian women are even more likely to feel culpable than their western counterparts.
This is not to argue that South Asian cultures are more patriarchal and oppressive than others but that they may constrain some women in ways that are very different from those of the West. The experiences and treatment of South Asian divorced women may vary according to their class, education, age, religion and other factors; however, the overall gender ideology promotes a strong adherence to family values based upon marriage and this may make their exclusion from their communities more severe. Furthermore, patriarchal expectations about women's symbolic role of demarcating community boundaries may be expressed more urgently in times of inter-communal conflict and tensions (Yuval-Davis, 1997; Sen and Kelly, 2007), and divorced women may feel the brunt of such tensions as they may be construed as a threat to the homogenous constructs of the community. The ways in which such threats are interpreted and managed by women and their communities must be the subjects for further research.
Despite the difficulties, divorce can also present new openings for women. The experience of the women reported here suggests that despite numerous difficulties after divorce, they emerged as strong, independent and resourceful agents able to build new relationships, survive economically and reflect critically upon the oppressive features of their cultures whilst retaining the elements they find valuable.
In these cases women may view their post-divorce situation with optimism and the resulting changes as an improvement on their past life, thereby gaining a higher self-esteem as they acquire more control and responsibility (Baum et al., 2005). But their ability to do so is dependent upon the objective and subjective potentials for their independent status, vis-à-vis economic, social and political positions. Where women receive little or no support from their families and communities, it is imperative that alternative means of support be available for them.
An independent income, sufficient housing and good education as well as employment are all necessary conditions in developing confidence and ability to build resilience against personal and social adversities. The position of South Asian women does not bode well in this aspect since most have low levels of income and their subjection to racial discrimination in employment and inaccessibility to secure housing are likely to make divorced women more vulnerable as they seek to become independent. The ramifications of the issues raised by this paper on children have not been explored and whilst a significant amount of research is evident on the impact of divorce on children in terms of the detrimental impact of financial resources (Rodgers and Pryor, 1998), educational performance and poor relationships with parents (Maclean, 2004), they can also be strong and resilient when provided with respect, recognition and opportunities to decide on their futures (Neal et al., 2003). The importance of these factors has been acknowledged in policy formulations in Supporting Families (1998) and Every Child Matters (2003) in safeguarding the best interest of the child. The specific needs of South Asian children within this discourse, however, are much neglected and the lack of information on the impact of culture in shaping their physical and emotional well being is alarming. South Asian families are not averse to using support services as long as such services address the required cultural nuances and specificities and agencies can confidently make the provision (Qureshi et al., 2000). At present the lack of research and theoretical perspectives make this task difficult and the issues raised here urge further research to address such concerns, as well as those related to the impact of the new discourses of ‘war on terror’ upon women and their relationships within the family and community, as well as the impact of immigration policies on divorce.
Whilst there will be diversity in the manner in which women experience and manage the process and the aftermath of divorce, it is hoped that the issues discussed here will help raise the profile of the concerns they face and the consequences for them, their families, cultures and communities.
Footnotes
1
I would like to thank Karen Rowlingson for her comments and support in producing this article.
2
The reasons for this are unclear (and not addressed in Berthoud, 2000), despite the fact that, unlike Hinduism and Sikhism, divorce is permitted in Islam. One of the factors may relate to the better economic and educational positions of Indians within the South Asian groups which may make divorce more viable for women in these communities, but this does not account for the low divorce rates, presumably also found among Indian Muslims.
3
The term ‘South Asian’ refers to people who originate from India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. When women from these backgrounds share similar issues the expression ‘South Asian’ is used; when referring to women in the research samples, which will be considered later, the term Sikh Punjabi women will be used.
4
This study identifies no divorced women in the study and generally says nothing about issues of divorce.
5
Under the Immigration Rules (Paragraph 281–289 of HC 395) people coming to the UK to join a spouse for marriage are required to remain in the marriage for at least two years before applying for permanent settlement. The application for leave to remain must be supported by both parties. A person failing to apply at the end of the probationary period automatically becomes an overstayer and is liable for deportation even if the marriage is continuing. A person whose marriage breaks down within the two years, regardless of the reason, is also vulnerable to removal. The other rule that applicants are often subjected to is the recourse to public funds which dictates that persons coming to the UK must be financially supported by their spouse or be self supporting. They are not entitled to welfare benefits, council housing or the use of publicly funded facilities such as refuges unless they are able to pay rent. These rules apply primarily to people coming from Commonwealth countries; migrants from the European Union are not subjected to them.
6
The samples in both studies were based on purposive and snowballing techniques and the data was analysed on the basis of the most common themes generated by the semi-structured interviews conducted at women's homes. Some of the respondents spoke little English whilst others spoke it quite fluently. The interviews for the PhD thesis were recorded in note form as soon after the interview as possible, but those conducted in 2000 were taped with consent and women's experiences of divorce are being explored here for the first time. The data was analysed thematically from the themes arising from the responses (transcribed and translated where necessary).
7
Other research has also found that financial independence and higher levels of education are significant factors in helping women to develop a critical awareness of gender subordination (Liddle and Joshi, 1986; Bhopal, 1997 and 1998) and this underlines the significance of economic and educational attainment which can enhance autonomy and self-determination. Of course, it could be argued that it may be the critical awareness in women that initially caused them to divorce and sever their ties from oppressive situations; the data here does not permit us to make a sufficient analysis of cause and effect for which further research is necessary. The point this paper makes is that divorce can have positive outcomes for women and enable them to live more fulfilling lives than they previously did in their marriages and that this is enhanced if their basic social and material well-being is secured.
