A few weeks ago, the government of Chhattisgarh organised a fashion show to showcase indigenous textiles. What was really on display, as intended by the state, were the models used, who were surrendered female Maoist fighters. As pictures of former fighters in make-up walking the ramp went viral and the Internet disturbingly termed them “Naxal-baddie” (a play on Naxalbari and the popular internet slang “baddie” which is usually used to refer to a stylish or highly confident woman), the mainstream media rushed to heap praise on the effort. Few bothered to interrogate the women’s participation in the context of the enormous power the state wields over them as surrendered fighters. As women who live in police rehabilitation camps and who were granted amnesty from prosecution by the state, did they have any meaningful opportunity to refuse? Some of the women have since confirmed to The Wire Hindi, that they were taken to Raipur on the pretext of giving them sewing lessons, and were then tricked into walking the ramp. Most people would acknowledge that the parading of surrendered troops is an act that is meant to demean and demoralise. Do make-up, stage lights and the surface resemblance to an Internet aesthetic otherwise associated with empowerment transform the same act of parading surrendered troops into a symbol of empowerment? The general inability of the public discourse to see this and call it out however forces us to ask a deeper question: caught between Hindutva’s patriarchy reinforcing ideas of “nari shakti (women power)” and the extreme individualism of Instagram compatible choice feminism, are we losing the ability to recognise patriarchal oppression itself? Hindutva and ‘nari shakti’The blurring of the lines between the family and the state in exercising patriarchal control over Hindu women has been a feature of the Indian polity in the last decade, most visible in the so-called “love jihad” cases. Young Hindu women in consensual relationships with men of another faith are often reported to Hindutva organisations by their own families. The organisations, working at times with police, lynch, threaten and arrest the men and coerce the women into returning to their families. At times these groups operate even when women have simply left their home to avoid forced marriage and live independently. While honour killings in India are not new, the enactment of anti-conversion laws in multiple states has meant that the women, instead of being able to reach out to the state to protect their individual liberties from the assertions of families are now faced with the state acting as the enforcer of patriarchal family control. This line of control also works in reverse. In internet doxxing cases, for example, Hindu women who put up photographs with men of another faith are doxxed and “reported” by right wing organisations to their own families who are expected to reassert control over them.Also read: Sukma Women Who Gave Up Maoism Say Chhattisgarh Govt ‘Tricked’ Them Into Ramp ModellingSpeaking at an event in 2025, former Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) MP Pragya Thakur urged Hindu families to “break the legs” of their daughters to prevent them from visiting the homes of friends from other faiths. The line of control over Hindu female agency in the Hindutva state therefore extends seamlessly from the family to the local right-wing group or online doxxer, to the police.And yet, the BJP constantly speaks of “nari shakti”. This is possible because nari shakti, as advocated for by the Sangh Parivar is conceptually distinct from women’s liberation or nari mukti. As sociologist Manisha Sethi points out, nari shakti is the belief that women derive power from certain traditional patriarchal roles (wife, mother, goddess, ascetic) and should be encouraged to use that power in the furtherance of the goals of Hindu nationalism, both within the Hindu family and in larger society. Hence, while nari shakti can and does mimic the aesthetics of empowerment, with Hindu women increasingly visible at the forefront of violent street activism directed at people of other faiths, or singing profane H-pop songs in processions, this power can only be directed outward at the “Other” and not at the patriarchal structures that still bind them. When the same power is turned inwards, as was seen in the recent student protests, where young Hindu women were seen using similar profanity at the prime minister (the self-anointed patriarch of the nation-family) the Hindutva establishment swiftly reverted to speaking of “cultural shocks” and the traditional behaviour expected from “our daughters”. Hindu women in this world view are either obedient weapons for Hindu nationalism, or errant daughters. What they are not is individuals or citizens with rights. While Hindutva has operated in a highly organised way to erode women’s rights in India over the last decade, feminist political opposition to it has been challenging to organise. While several small grassroots organisations have fought valiantly to do so, the popular discourse today where individual choice is increasingly posited as the ultimate marker of liberation, does not offer scope to organise broad-based resistance. Neoliberalism and illusions of choiceWhat is sometimes derisively called “choice feminism” grew as a response to the (often valid) criticism that feminism in the West was rigid, exclusionary, and ultimately too judgmental to appeal to or mobilise a diverse coalition of women. By arguing that a wide variety of life choices made by women could still be feminist if made with “feminist consciousness”, choice feminism essentially conflated each woman’s individual right to exercise a choice with liberation or at least saw it as evidencing liberation. While choice feminism has been subjected to substantial critique, including on its inevitable outcome, which is the individualisation and depoliticisation of feminism itself, it tends to persist in the popular discourse. This is not surprising. In the attention economy of the Internet, where theories rely on popularity for their reach, a theory that provides validation for the feelings of the broadest possible coalition of women will thrive, even if that appeal comes at the cost of its dilution as a political movement. While rigid and narrow understandings of feminism are a genuine bar to political organisation, and often unconsciously replicate caste, class and religious hierarchies, focusing on individual choice to combat that is eventually counterproductive.Also read: Where Is My Place in the Census, India? First, when we conflate choice (a consumerist idea) with agency, we deprioritise the need for structural reform that would change the choices on the table itself. In India, for example, despite near equal percentages of men and women enrolling for degrees each year, urban female workforce participation remains at around 27.7%. Of graduate women out of the workforce, over 64% term childcare or homemaking as the reason, as compared to 1% of men. While some of these women might describe staying at home as a choice, can this choice be discussed meaningfully without also noting that 81.5% of Indian women report undertaking unpaid domestic caregiving work, as compared to only 27.1% of men? Second, choice changes the idea of self-determination from a collective goal to an individual one. If there are infinite individual equally valid visions of liberation that can exist in parallel, and an act of patriarchal oppression becomes liberatory by the simple expedient of individual choice, the debate shifts. As in the fashion show with surrendered fighters, we are left arguing about whether or not the women chose to participate instead of critiquing the actions of the state exercising its power in this manner. As individual choice is difficult to satisfactorily prove or disprove, organising collective action becomes next to impossible. For women at the top of the caste, class and religious hierarchies, such individualisation allows them to direct feminist attention almost entirely to issues that that matter to them (such as boardroom representation or formal leave policies) and frees them of any requirement to prioritise the voices and needs of the most vulnerable within the movement. Women at the margins, who are in direct conflict with the state, like the labour activists arrested in Noida, or the Adivasi women protesting the Ken-Betwa river linking project are barely heard. Instead of increasing inclusion, choice, in a market-based attention economy, effectively narrows the feminist discourse to the concerns of the loudest, who are usually also the most privileged. Electoral implicationsThis free for all, where popular feminism can mean anything and nothing has allowed the BJP to make major political inroads into the female electorate, without serious pushback. The women who are drawn to and participate in Hindu nationalist street activism do so of their own free will and often report feeling empowered at being able forge an identity for themselves outside of their homes. The fact that this power is firmly directed at upholding patriarchy and often comes at the cost of the denial of other women of agency, is not seriously engaged with or challenged in the public discourse. These women form the core of the BJP’s political outreach to young women. On gendered violence for example, the BJP has been able to successfully use the aesthetics of empowerment adopted by groups like the Durga Vahini (the young women’s wing of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad), and their focus on suraksha (security) to posit itself as the solution for women, not the problem. By framing the Muslim “Other” as the main threat to Hindu women, it seamlessly merges women’s concerns with its broader ideology. Another popular scheme, gender linked cash transfers, are often seen as providing material support to women in distress. In states like Bihar, where migrant labour has fundamentally altered gender roles for those left behind, the BJP and JD(U)s targeted cash transfers directed at women offer the first official recognition of this evolution. The state positioning itself as the quasi patriarch providing money to women to take care of the family in the absence of their male members is an extension of patriarchal control but is seen as women friendly and is being electorally rewarded by women. The threat posed by the patriarchy to Indian women is not abstract. India remains one of the few countries where marital rape is not a crime. Malnutrition in India is gendered. Despite the taking of dowry being criminalized in 1961, the practice remains widely prevalent and thousands of women die dowry related deaths each year. Female labour force participation remains low for a country at this stage of development. An alarmingly high percentage of women suffer intimate partner violence, and caste and religion based honour killing persists even in states that score relatively well on human development indices. A political discourse where women are only addressed as a subset of the inherited identity groups they inhabit or the daughters of a benevolent state cannot address these challenges meaningfully, as the beneficiaries of their oppression are also often members of the same identity group, or state. Politics where women of the dominant group are simply asked to seek a sense of empowerment within patriarchal boundaries, and women of minority groups are offered the opportunity to challenge patriarchal norms only if they allow their causes to be used by the dominant group as ammunition for their larger majoritarian agenda does not liberate women in any meaningful sense. India has around hundreds of millions of women and girls under the age of 30. Every one of them, in some shape or form, experiences patriarchy. The ideological foundations they seek for their own liberation will shape the future of the country in fundamental ways. In this, they deserve a clearly articulated and inclusive feminist political alternative to Hindutva. Building this alternative requires us to begin with a mechanism of inclusion that goes beyond the idea of individual choice. Sarayu Pani is a lawyer by training and posts on X @sarayupani.Missing Link is her column on the social aspects of the events that move India.