It all started with a subtle protest. A young man in his mid-20s was staring at a woman standing at a juice joint near her home. Her younger brother and a friend were with her when the woman noticed the man's constant staring at her. "Do I know you? Why are you looking at me?" was a hint for the man to leave them alone. Instead, the man retorted by asking, "What's wrong with staring?"

I read journalist Rafia Tamanna's account of the incident on social media, where she detailed how she and her brother were physically attacked and threatened by the man and his friends. Thanks to rapid police action, the attackers have been apprehended. However, I am intrigued by the apparently innocent question, "What's wrong with staring?" Surely, looks don't kill. We were not there to determine whether the gaze was flirtatious or toxic. But in any culture, prolonged staring is considered an invasion of privacy, a form of intimidation and aggression. Averted eye contact is perceived as a sign of modesty, especially when you are engaging with elders or the opposite gender. When you make eye contact with a stranger in public, the expected norm is to nod or smile to acknowledge the person and look away. Decency would have demanded the man feel slightly embarrassed and return to his own business after Rafia raised her discomfort. His resort to violence, assisted by his friends, signals a disturbingly common mindset that normalises the objectification of women and frames protest against such behaviour as transgression.

According to this mindset, out in the open, men have the right to look at any woman. If one wants to spare oneself from such stares, one is prescribed to wear veils. Otherwise, men reserve the right to treat women as "public property." They reserve the right to be oblivious to a woman's discomfort by defining such "staring" not as harassment but as harmless. Heaven forbid, if a woman protests, men will rewrite the moral script to blame the woman as the aggressor for her reaction. Such audacity will be met by public punishment, boosting male ego.

Read more

The many faces of gender-based violence and herd mentality

The real issue here is power and control over women's bodies and space. Even when a woman is escorted by a male in public, she is not safe. Think of the attack on a mother in front of her teenage son following an altercation with a street vendor in Mirpur. These are textbook cases of toxic masculinity. The salesman could not allow a woman to slight him in public. He beat up a middle-aged woman, old enough to be his mother, to assert that he is man enough to "teach the woman her proper place in society."

The anger with which women are confronted is not an isolated incident. A cultural virus has deeply rooted itself in our society, causing this rage. The anger is cultured and nurtured by patriarchy. Hence, after every instance of sexual harassment, we find the majority of our men rally to scandalise the victim. Digital smearing, or slut-shaming for clothes or progressive outlook, is on the rise to suggest how toxic masculinity feeds on collective denial and hostility. It serves as a tool to silence women. Thankfully, Rafia did not remain silent. She posted a photo of herself in the dress she was wearing to write, "If I can join the street protests in July knowing that the next bullet could have hit me, I might as well wait for the next slur."

I am sure many will interpret the gesture as a further provocation. Many will tighten their grips on the moral whips and lash at her with hormonal fury. Arresting three men is like a band-aid offered to a patient with internal haemorrhage. A new case will emerge to divert our attention.

Already, we have forgotten the brutal rape and murder of the eight-year-old girl visiting her sister's in-laws in Magura. The entire country erupted into protest, irrespective of party banners. The promise was to amend existing laws. And we returned to our Eid specials with a feeling of wonderful accomplishment. The shelf life of a sensational news story is the wait period before the arrival of the next one.

Read more

Eid in a time of uncertainty and change

However, in advanced societies, they always find time to rethink these more profound issues. It occurred to me while watching a British parliamentarian asking the prime minister whether his government was planning to use the Netflix miniseries Adolescence as an education tool to address toxic masculinity. I ended up watching the series featuring Jamie, a 13-year-old boy accused of murdering his classmate. As the plot unfolds, we realise how young boys today are exposed to extreme misogynistic content online. The frustration of a young boy to have a romantic relationship with a girl of his age is blamed on the supposed fact that 80 percent of the girls are attracted to 20 percent of the boys. This misunderstanding leads to the rise of incel (involuntary celibate) culture, where the male blames the women, and by extension society, for their lack of romantic success. By focusing on Jamie's journey, the series examines how his father's macho image, the school bullies, and the absence of a female voice in the household contributed to his radicalisation. The underlying message of the series involves early intervention and open conversations about masculinity, mental health, and the influence of digital environments on youth development.

Could we not adopt a similar approach to our school curriculum? For a second, let's reverse the gaze and try to answer what was wrong with the staring that led to the assault of Rafia. Do you think, at the back of his mind, the perpetrator, like Jamie, felt jealous of two boys having glasses of juice in his locality? Who did he blame: his misfortune, his social status, or his upbringing? The 80/20 rule robs him of "human" relationships. So, when confronted, he decided to tap into his primitive energy to be a "man." He "manned up" to show the woman her "place" in society. As long as we men do not learn to become humans, we will have such issues in society.

Covering up the other in veils is not a solution. We need to create open space to discuss why men desire to be the masters and controllers of everything and everyone. Through this process of open dialogue, both the old and the young can start learning together about the evils of toxic masculinity.

Dr Shamsad Mortuza is professor of English at Dhaka University.

Views expressed in this article are the author's own. 

Follow The Daily Star Opinion on Facebook for the latest opinions, commentaries and analyses by experts and professionals. To contribute your article or letter to The Daily Star Opinion, see our guidelines for submission.