Dreaming with Rokeya

Sultana's Dream was first published in 1905 in the Ladies Home Journal in what was then the Presidency city of Madras. Penned by an unknown writer then residing in Bhagalpur, this short story has travelled the globe as the imagining of a utopian world run by women on feminist principles. The history of its publication shows a pan-Indian or South Asian sensibility at work, as the young Bengali writer writing in Bihar is published in Madras. Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain's entry into the literary firmament was indeed dramatic.

What are the main elements of the space that Rokeya, through Sultana, is dreaming of? Of course the most well-known is freeing the women from the zenana and locking the men in the murdana, thus reversing gender norms and overturning gender roles. As Sultana is guided through the kingdom of Ladyland by Sister Sara, she notices the absence of men on the streets. Sister Sara at the same time remarks on Sultana's "manly" mannerisms. In Ladyland, "manly" connotes shy and retiring, as women can boldly walk about at all hours of the day and night, safe from horrible leers or danger. This is a dream indeed as we still cannot walk the streets of our cities without fear, both of attack and of social castigation.

How did this come about? "Through the superiority of intellectual powers and scientific innovation," says Sister Sara. The war with the neighbouring kingdom was won not through the superior armed power of the existing armed force, but by unmanned solar-powered missiles. This is shown as a force for good. But we, as twenty-first century readers, have to pause a bit at this point, as this kind of warfare has become a reality in our times. Science and technology at the beginning of the twentieth century had held up immense possibilities for the social good, but a century and more later, we are faced with its dystopian potentials.

But winning this war has led to the establishment of the fabulous Ladyland. Here, the state is run on humanitarian principles: policing and penal systems are unknown, as there is hardly any crime or incidents of violence. The harshest punishment is banishment from the kingdom; most violators of the system are forgiven, and it is only repetition of violations that leads to banishment. Religion is based on universal love and the communal differences of the time find no expression in this ideal land.

There are two universities in the land, and taking a page out of Swift's Laputa perhaps (but completely overturning its satirical intentions), Sultana's Dream evinces great faith in scientific innovation. Thus, we are given pictures of clean kitchens, where of course the men are stirring the pots. These hearths are fired by solar power, so the soot-covered kitchens in which women chopped and baked all day, are replaced with clean spaces where women's entry appears to be optional. Agriculture has been revolutionised by harnessing this solar power as well as by harvesting rainwater. Rokeya has really let her imagination soar to ride on air balloons and control the weather. And women, being given educational opportunities, are easily able to explore and realise their potentials. Don't women have smaller brains than men? Size does not matter, as there are many creatures, such as elephants, who have larger brains than human beings. And what about physical strength? On that count, lions and tigers would rule the earth. It is intellectual power that sets human beings apart, and women have been denied the opportunity to explore this aspect, as Rokeya has reminded us in essay after essay, and in all her writings. Sultana's Dream is a wonderful exposé of what women can do with their "brainpower."

But are "feminine virtues" completely denied in Ladyland? Not at all, as a perfect work-life balance is achieved here. Lady-like "accomplishments", such as embroidery, fit into this world as leisure activities or even artistic expressions. Work is so organised that there is time left over for domestic involvements. Vegetables and flowers are cultivated as domestic chores are transformed into pleasurable and relaxing tasks.

Sultana is bemused as she wanders through the well-laid-out streets, safe and gaining in confidence. But at the end, she is jolted into reality as she wakes up with a start to realise it's only a dream. But is Sultana's dream and Rokeya's "sweet revenge" just that—a dream and a wish fulfilment? This early vision of a perfect world for women—it is one of Rokeya's earliest writings—has echoed through for over a century. It has acquired a historic position as the first feminist utopia, it speaks to women across time and geography, and for us in Bangladesh, Rokeya's dream gives us a full vision of the world we are aspiring to. (Yes, I agree that locking up the men may be an extreme measure, but curbing the violence that women are subjected to, from leery looks to rape, requires some kind of drastic solution). First written in English, and later translated to Bangla by the author herself, the story has been able to travel the world, and has acquired a place in world literature, at least in the annals of transnational feminism.

Rokeya's vision most crucially has continued to inspire the women's movement in Bangladesh. We are indeed fortunate in having such a wonderful example to follow, as Rokeya traversed over the fields of writing, education and organising in her times. Her vision was expressed playfully and with a light touch in Sultana's Dream, but her total body of writing and life's work were devoted to the advancement and liberation of women. In this task, she recognised no barriers, cultural or national, in reaching out to women of all communities in her city, including Christian nuns and Brahma educators, read widely, drawing examples from the lives of women in Turkey or Bombay, looking at the causes of women's subordination in culture and religion, and speaking out when she needed to. Her writing spans essays and fiction. Padmarag,for example, builds on the themes from Sultana's Dream to construct a woman's space, throwing in a lot of women from diverse communities together. Sakhawat Memorial School, which Rokeya established in Kolkata, educated the first generation of Bengali Muslim women. She was not constrained in defining herself, either as Muslim or Bengali or Indian, but what was absolutely central to her, was her mission for the advancement of women. Transforming dreams into reality was her mission in life. She called on all women—bhaginigon—to join her in this effort.

The contemporary women's movement in Bangladesh still turns to Rokeya, responding to her call in various ways, be it in its stance on secularism, or in its call for the safety and security of women in homes and public spaces.

Dreams and visions are necessary for the path to women's advancement and liberation. Today, the anniversary of her birth and death, will be marked as usual by memorial lectures and functions. Naripokkho has taken a leaf out of Rokeya's book this year to mount an exhibition comprised of paintings by 50 women. These paintings have been chosen through a call for submissions, and will be on display at Drik Gallery from December 9 to 16. Entitled Amader Shopno, this exhibition recognises the importance of dreaming, of creating visions that can be transformed into achievable goals, or dreams as expressions of our realities, where the conditions of our lives take on new and meaningful dimensions. Rokeya had called for the unlocking of women's creativity, and we, in our humble way, are trying follow in her footsteps.

Firdous Azim is a professor of English and chairperson of the Department of English and Humanities at BRAC University. She is also a member of women's activist group, Naripokkho.