Representation and Law Enforcement

The impacts of quotas or affirmative action measures for vulnerable groups have been studied vis-à-vis a range of outcomes.Footnote ² This literature shows that a demographically inclusive political body (descriptive representation) generates substantive outcomes—for example, the presence of women in politics improves attitudes toward leaders (Beaman et al. Reference Beaman, Duflo, Pande and Topalova2012), changes gender norms (Beaman et al. Reference Beaman, Chattopadhyay, Duflo, Pande and Topalova2009), and promotes development (Chattopadhyay and Duflo Reference Chattopadhyay and Duflo2004). There is also a robust literature on the impact of representation for women in unelected state agencies (Keiser et al. Reference Keiser, Wilkins, Meier and Holland2002; Riccucci, Van Ryzin, and Li Reference Riccucci, Van Ryzin and Li2016). This literature, part of a broader academic discussion of “representative bureaucracy,”Footnote ³ suggests that the presence of women in law enforcement increases trust in the police as well as registrations of sexual assault or domestic violence (Meier and Nicholson-Crotty Reference Meier and Nicholson-Crotty2006; Miller and Segal Reference Miller and Segal2019).

However, research on the impact of “representative” police forces in the Global South has yielded mixed results (Karim Reference Karim2020; Karim et al. Reference Karim, Gilligan, Blair and Beardsley2018),Footnote ⁴ and existing scholarship has largely been restricted to affirmation action. Nevertheless, quotas are just one variant of representation. Policy makers have considered alternative measures based on the intuition that, even with affirmative action, vulnerable groups would likely still be constrained by the majority (Sabha Reference Sabha2012); instead, group-specific enclaves would potentially ensure that administrators are able to interact with and be responsive solely to in-groups (Kethineni and Srinivasan Reference Kethineni, Srinivasan and Unnithan2013; Nelson Reference Nelson1996; Santos Reference Santos2004). For example, while a gender quota for the police would still enable female officers to work on diverse cases, and a similar policy in a village council would ensure that a woman elected leader (sarpanch) remains answerable to male villagers, group-specific bodies would associate female administrators with in-group complainants and gendered concerns alone.

Some scholarship suggests that enclaves can be empowering. In Tamil Nadu, for instance, policewomen enjoy working with other female officers because it fosters a sense of camaraderie (Natarajan Reference Natarajan1996, Reference Natarajan2005). Mangai Natarajan (Reference Natarajan2008) notes that in standard police stations, women primarily do clerical work; yet all-women stations allow policewomen to advance their careers along a parallel track that is less dominated by men. This author argues that institutional segregation is effective for women in “traditional societies” because it provides a “backdoor to equality.”Footnote ⁵

On the other hand, scholars of Brazil are more reserved. The first all-women police station in Latin America was opened in São Paulo in 1985 as a way to create new jobs for policewomen as well as to improve services for victims of sexual violence (Santos Reference Santos2004, Reference Santos2005). Some feminists were skeptical that such a “separatist strategy” would be beneficial, because, they argued, women do not have innate talents in assisting other women, and since policewomen operate in the same cultural milieu as men, biases and bureaucratic incentives would likely remain constant (Santos Reference Santos2004, 30–36). Evidence suggests that Brazilian policewomen in all-women police stations may sometimes be more dismissive of gender violence than policemen in an effort to be seen as worthy by the bureaucracy. Policewomen may not want to work in segregated institutions either, if doing so comes at the expense of carrying out frontline work (Hautzinger Reference Hautzinger2007; Nelson Reference Nelson1996).

Separatism as a Strategy and Policing in India

Separation from men as a form of empowerment has its roots in the first wave of American feminism during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when activists appropriated the notion of “separate spheres”—which previously had been used to reinforce norms of women in domestic roles or a gendered division of labor—to challenge patriarchy (Kerber Reference Kerber1988; Marshall Reference Marshall1986; Rosenberg Reference Rosenberg1982). Estelle Freedman (Reference Freedman1979) notes that “separate spheres” became a strategy to develop all-female institutions such as women's colleges, political parties, health clinics, trade unions, and so on. The creation of homogenous physical spaces and institutions, it was argued, would enable women to speak freely and gain a footing in bodies previously denied to them (Schulz Reference Schulz2004).

Nonetheless, some argued that embedded within separate spheres was a paradox—that is, group-specific institutions promoted gender differences by reinforcing an exclusively “male” domain against which women-only bodies could be measured (Craig Reference Craig1994; Kessler-Harris Reference Kessler-Harris1989). Early American feminists such as Jane Addams and Crystal Eastman were aware of the dilemma of creating institutions that excluded men while removing barriers to gender equality (Craig Reference Craig1994); there were even anxieties about women's colleges inadvertently preparing men for prestigious jobs by training women for less valued “women's work” (Spain Reference Spain1993, 140).Footnote ⁶

In the early twentieth century, American feminists created the first all-women police stations in the United States, called Women's Bureaus.Footnote ⁷ Proponents of the Women's Bureaus contended that all-women police stations were effective because policewomen were fairer and better suited for gendered cases, and such bodies would provide policewomen more responsibilities while giving policemen time to deal with “urgent” cases (US Congress 1925).Footnote ⁸ However, certain senators and congressmen disagreed, believing that group-specific institutions had the potential to create a system of pass-the-parcel by inducing existing stations to turn over their gendered cases to women-only institutions.Footnote ⁹ Eventually, all-women police stations in the United States were largely abolished by the end of World War II, when norms about group-specific measures changed. There would be no large-scale implementation of such institutions until Brazil did so in 1985, followed by India in 1992.

Today, India houses the largest number of all-women police stations.Footnote ¹⁰ In fact, the broader idea of separate, group-specific arrangements as a vehicle of empowerment has a long history in the subcontinent. Prior to independence, there was a robust debate about the efficacy of separate electorates.Footnote ¹¹ While nationalists such as Aruna Asaf Ali and Shrimati Renuka Ray considered (but ultimately disfavored) gender quotas in legislative institutions (Government of India 1999), freedom fighters such as Santi Das and Sarala Devi Chaudhurani supported separate electorates for women (Forbes Reference Forbes1999, Reference Forbes2005). Interestingly, debates about quotas versus group-specific measures were not restricted to politics. Following the Emergency, the government-appointed National Police Commission (1977–81) outlined the need to increase participation for female officers in the police:

The push toward increasing the presence of women in law enforcement ran parallel with another proposal: separating policewomen in their own bureaus, isolated from policemen. Ultimately, the National Police Commission disfavored the idea based on an intuition that such a strategy may, on the pretext of empowerment, in fact hinder the professionalization of policewomen (Vira and Reddy Reference Vira and Krishnaswamy Reddy1980; PTI 1983). The commission noted,

The Introduction of All-Women Police Stations in India

Following the 1980s, as new laws against gender violence were enacted,Footnote ¹² the state of Tamil Nadu, led by Chief Minister J. Jayalalitha, decided to roll out all-women police stations (Natarajan Reference Natarajan2008; Ruiz Reference Ruiz2006). The institutions fused the notion of women being suited for tackling gendered crimes with the idea of physical separation in group-specific bodies in which female administrators would be under their own supervision and could work entirely with female staff.Footnote ¹³ The special stations are identical to standard police stations, except that they are run by and for women.Footnote ¹⁴ The institutions are tasked with investigating (gendered) crimes of the Indian Penal Code (see table 3 in the online appendix) and registering First Information Reports (FIRs), which are a complainant's first step toward formal access to justice. Policewomen may be stationed by their superiors at a standard station or in the female-only unit, which is typically located in the district headquarters. A victim of gender-based violence may theoretically register a crime at the standard station near where the crime occurred or the segregated unit.

Following Tamil Nadu, other state governments began experimenting with all-women stations. The cities of Lucknow (Uttar Pradesh) and Bhagalpur (Bihar) introduced their first units in 1993 (Rao Reference Rao1993) and 1995 (TNN 1995), respectively. Some feminists and human rights groups in India expressed skepticism about a large-scale rollout. As early as 1993, women activists argued, “Of course, a woman may feel comfortable speaking to another woman, whether a police officer or not. But care must be exercised that this practice does not make general police stations unapproachable,” or “If all cases of domestic violence are forwarded to an all-women police station it may also create an impression in the long run that women police officers should tackle women's problems only” (Rao Reference Rao1993).

In 2002, the National Conference for Women in Policing began calling for a 33 percent gender quota in the police. In 2009, adopting some of the conference's recommendations, the federal government began issuing advisories to state governmentsFootnote ¹⁵ urging them to install any mechanism they saw fit to promote the participation of women in law enforcement, including women's help desks in standard stations, group-specific police stations, and/or hiring quotas (Home Secretary 2009, 2013). Following the 2009 advisory, however, states were reluctant to adopt the 33 percent gender quota; instead, there was enthusiasm among policy makers for adopting all-women police stations. From 2009 to 2012, the number of all-women stations increased from 1 to 40 in Bihar, from 12 to 71 in Uttar Pradesh, and from 8 to 31 in Gujarat.

All-women stations were seen as a means to display a progressive vision on gender justice without the more costly policy of changing hiring practices; essentially, the exiting staff of policewomen could simply be posted to a separate building. The state of Haryana, for instance, adopted all-women police stations in 2015 but did not implement a gender quota; on the other hand, Maharashtra consciously eschewed enclaves in place of increasing the number of policewomen and ensuring that some were posted at every regular station (Sabha Reference Sabha2012). In fact, the federal government had to reprimand state governments for not implementing a quota: “The Ministry of Home Affairs had issued an advisory . . . whereby the States/UTs were requested to raise the women representation in police to 33 percent. However, it is a matter of concern that not much has been done in this regard, except for a few states” (Home Secretary 2015).

The gang rape of a college student in New Delhi in 2012 created a new urgency for enacting policies to mitigate violence against women. Indian law required that a woman police officer be present for the recording of a female complainant's testimony (Government of India 2013).Footnote ¹⁶ However, this raised a potential concern: the implementation of physically separate all-women police stations (which associated policewomen with investigating rather than just recording gendered crime) would move existing female officers to separate institutions, thereby potentially making it less likely that they could be present for the recording of a female victim's testimony at standard stations (Gilmore et al. Reference Gilmore, Srivastava, Daruwala and Prasad2015; Jha Reference Jha2016).Footnote ¹⁷ In fact, even the federal government acknowledged potential challenges associated with enclaves by noting,

Gender Norms in Haryana and Uttar Pradesh

To evaluate the efficacy of enclaves, I turn to Uttar Pradesh (UP) and Haryana's all-women police stations. UP has housed all-women police stations since the mid-1990s, while Haryana implemented its units in 2015. This enables me to investigate the impact of two sets of all-women police stations, one decades old compared with a more recent intervention. In so doing, I am able to hold constant factors such as culture and language; both UP and Haryana belong to the Hindi-speaking heartland, a region that retains particularly regressive gender norms.

I consider data from two modules of the 2015–16 Indian National Family Health Survey that highlight the similarities between Haryana and UP in terms of the abuse that women face and the ways in which such violence is internalized. Table 1 shows that in Haryana and UP, respectively, about 31 percent and 36 percent of women report some form of physical violence (e.g., being pushed, slapped, or punched), and about 6 percent and 11 percent report severe physical violence (e.g., being kicked, strangled, or threatened with a weapon). A striking statistic is that about 9 percent and 8 percent of women report sexual assault by their husband; this is noteworthy considering there is no law against marital rape (Chhibber and Jassal Reference Chhibber and Jassal2018b).

Table 1.

Women's Experience of Physical and Sexual Violence in India

Notes: Percentages of women in Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and all India, ages 15-49, who experienced violence by their husband. Any physical violence refers to being pushed, slapped, having one's arm twisted, and punched. Any severe physical violence refers to being kicked, strangled/burned, and/or threatened with a knife/weapon. Answer choices for afraid of spouse reflect those who responded “most of the time” or “sometimes.” Analysis is based on the National Family Health Survey 4.

Table 2 reveals two points. First, a significant proportion of women believe that wife beating is justified. Of female respondents, between 17 percent and 20 percent in Haryana and between 22 percent and 32 percent in UP believe that it is justified to beat a wife if she goes out of the house without permission, neglects the house or children, argues, cooks inadequately, or is suspected of being unfaithful. Approximately 12 percent of women in both states believe it is justified to beat a wife if she refuses sex. The highest figure is in the category of “disrespect toward in-laws”: 30 percent and 39 percent of women in Haryana and UP, respectively, believe wife beating is justified if a woman disrespects her husband's family.

Table 2.

Attitudes among Women about Spousal Violence

Notes: Percentage of women in Haryana, Uttar Pradesh, and all India, ages 15–49, who believe that wife beating is justified for the listed reasons. Analysis based on the National Family Health Survey 4.

Second, based on the table, it can be inferred that if women believe that it is justified for them to be beaten in a variety of contexts, then it is likely that victims of violence—especially abuse by a husband or in-laws—would turn to the police only as a last resort. In other words, it is important to contextualize the following analyses by noting that women who visit a police station in Haryana and UP to register a crime have likely suffered significant hardship to have taken the step of approaching law enforcement.

All-Women Police Stations: An Ethnographic Analysis

I visited more than a hundred police stations in the region and carried out observational and interview-based research (Patton Reference Patton1990; Schutt Reference Schutt2018). I visited two to three standard and all-women police stations in each of Haryana's districts; in Uttar Pradesh, I visited police stations in the east (Varanasi, Jaunpur) as well as in the west (Noida, Meerut).Footnote ¹⁸ In total, I interviewed approximately 180 police officers.

The reason for carrying out interviews is simple. A non-interpretivist method would define some objective measure of “police efficacy” or “access to justice” (e.g., registrations of crime) and categorize outcomes that conform to that definition (e.g., the number of registered reports in a particular station) (Jassal Reference Jassal2020). However, police officers in India may have their own definitions of “access to justice,” which is why it is important to ask them directly to gauge how they experience and understand such concepts (Patton Reference Patton1990).

Upon arriving at a police station, I introduced myself and the research agenda to the station house officer (SHO) (see the “Template Recruitment Script” in the online appendix). The officer had the ability to choose the location of the interview, and invariably decided to do so in his or her office. While the SHO would often ask to clear his or her office, it was not unusual for deputies and complainants to enter the room midway through the interview and give the SHO paperwork or have him or her take a telephone call. After completing my interview with the SHO, I asked permission to carry out additional interviews with deputies at the station. The rest of the interviews were largely carried out with sub-inspectors, assistant sub-inspectors, and constables. (My interviews focused on officials from the state cadre because they—unlike senior officers from the Indian Police Service bureaucracy—carry out most policing on the ground.) The SHO did not have a role in identifying or selecting other police officers to be approached. Interviews with the SHO's deputies took place in a separate office within the police station or outside. It was easier to carry out interviews with deputies in privacy and without interruption because they were not always restricted to an office. At no time could the SHO hear the responses given to me by the deputies.Footnote ¹⁹ Each interview lasted approximately 30 minutes per officer and occurred at anytime between 9:00 a.m. and 8:00 p.m.

To mitigate social desirability bias, I took a number of steps. I informed respondents that they were free to skip, ignore, or decline to answer any or all questions. In addition, information was collected anonymously for all respondents. I took down only basic demographic information and my notes were categorized as, for instance, “Assistant Sub-Inspector 2, X Police Station, Date.” On occasion, when a sensitive topic arose, I reiterated to the officer that his or her identity would remain anonymous. Almost all the officers I interviewed provided consent and seemed more than eager to participate.

Still, even when taking steps to mitigate social desirability bias, interviews with public officials come with unavoidable challenges—for example, officials may seek to provide answers that are not detrimental to their professional standing. When public servants are conscious that they are being observed, it may generate reactivity (Bouchard Reference Bouchard1976). For this reason, I supplemented interviews with observation-based research by recording the routines and habits of officers as well as the dynamics inside the station. Because ethical guidelines of research precluded me from directly interviewing victims of sexual and gender-based violence, by simply being present at the station, I was able to observe officers’ interactions with victims. I spent up to four hours at each police station as a “fly on the wall.” Since a public setting like a police station can be a hotbed of activity, my presumption was that any social desirability bias associated with my presence or identity would diminish after an extended period of time as officers become engaged with or distracted by other responsibilities. Moreover, I never gained the impression that any complainant was concerned about my presence; despite being a male researcher at the station, I was one of dozens of individuals at the institution at any given time that may have included escorts sitting in the waiting room, drivers, or other male family members of complainants.

Finally, in ethnographic research, it is important to identify oneself and acknowledge how one is a part of the construction of the material (Rubin and Rubin Reference Rubin and Rubin2012; Wedeen Reference Wedeen2010). Therefore, in forthcoming descriptions, I highlight the questions that I asked in order to contextualize and be transparent about the way in which the information was obtained. The interviews were carried out in Hindi; the notes for the interviews and observations were transcribed at the end of each day they were conducted.

Multiple Jurisdictions

When I arrived at Jaunpur's all-women police station on September 27, 2017, it was already nighttime. I met two women police officers (a sub-inspector and a note taker or munshi sitting on a cot outside the station). They informed me that the SHO was away, but they agreed to answer my questions. The policewomen were eager to vent to me about how dissatisfied they were about being posted at an all-women station.Footnote ²⁰

The policewomen disliked the fact that they were away from their families, which would not be the case if they were posted at a standard (or zonal) police station, and they underscored that policemen use the enclave to lighten their own caseloads. I began by asking the sub-inspector how many officers work at the institution. The sub-inspector said, “15 or so, but there are just two officers—me and the SHO. It's tough because we answer to the whole district—and we go wherever we have to. So, going and investigating can be a bit of a challenge in a way that would not be at a normal thana [police station].”

“Do many complainants come to you?,” I asked.

The sub-inspector responded, “Yes, but largely when complainants get forwarded here. That's when the madam [the SHO] investigates it. Most cases do not come directly. FIRs [crime reports] are sometimes registered here but very, very few.”Footnote ²¹

“What are your hours?,” I asked.

The policewomen described not only how the physical segregation isolated them from mainstream police work, but also how all-women stations—in addition to forcing complainants to travel longer distances to access justice—create inefficiency because there are times when a woman needs to be interrogated or asked questions at other venues.

At this moment, the munshi interjected: “My family life is being ruined. I have to live here. I barely get to see my family. I want to be posted in a zonal police station closer to home. Male officers just have their work, but we have dual roles.”

After some time, the SHO arrived in a Jeep with her driver. After introducing myself and my research agenda, she invited me into her office. Eager to answer my questions, and having called for tea, she asked me to begin my inquiry. I began by asking her thoughts about the efficacy of all-women stations.

The SHO noted,

In the exchange, the SHO hinted that these dynamics would be less likely to occur if she were posted at a standard police station. Like the sub-inspector and the munshi, the SHO expressed that the all-women stations have a lot of work because standard police stations around Jaunpur use the enclave as an opportunity to lighten their own loads.

The SHO continued,

In this way, not only are gender violence cases passed on to all-women police stations, but also the segregation of policewomen manifests in fewer resources (at least in UP) and isolation. There is also a disconnect in that policewomen think that policemen at the standard stations have little work to do because policemen are not responsible to a whole district; then again, policemen at standard stations believe that all-women stations have few responsibilities because the institutions are only associated with gendered crimes. This incongruity likely plays a role in inducing officers at standard stations to deflect gendered cases, potentially affecting complainants’ access to services because they are forced to navigate this maze created by multiple jurisdictions.

A sub-inspector at the all-women station in Varanasi was even more explicit about bureaucratic inefficiency. When I visited the institution on September 26, 2017, she underscored that because all-women stations cater to a whole district but the institutions get the same monetary allowance as standard stations, the physical segregation makes it difficult to carry out investigations. She said,

“Don't you get reimbursed?,” I asked.

The sub-inspector said,

I asked the sub-inspector, “So you also register heinous gendered crimes like rape?”

Puzzled at the repeated use of the phrase “gent's police station,” I said, “It's interesting that you refer to the other police stations as ‘gent's thanas.’ Aren't policewomen also posted at normal police stations—shouldn't victims feel comfortable reporting crimes there or to the female officers posted there?”

“There, you might have two or three female officers. Four tops. Police stations sometimes have 80–90 police. So, if a victim goes there, she will really just see mostly men. Here you have all women. But, still, it's sometimes better for the complainant to go to the gent's thana.”

My sense was that the creation of all-women police stations—without clear jurisdictions outlining responsibility for investigating gendered crimes—affects not only the complainants, but also policewomen's morale and sense of worth. Female officers referred to standard police stations as “gent's thanas,” suggesting that the creation of all-women stations impacts police jargon such that now a standard police station is seen primarily as a man's domain.

Figure 1 shows a photograph taken inside a UP station. The board—which highlights rules to be followed by officers—is revealing. It illustrates that citizens are not supposed to be turned away. Rule 3 explicitly states that officers cannot refuse to register a complaint if they believe it to be false or exaggerated, and citizens cannot be turned away with the excuse that the case falls under the jurisdiction of another station (colloquially referred to as “burking”). Another board inside a standard police station (Figure 2) outlines that women police officers should, if possible, help in the recording of female victims’ statements. Yet, because most policewomen are posted at all-women police stations, the inaccessibility of policewomen at standard stations makes it more challenging to assist female victims in distress when they approach zonal institutions.

Figure 1.

“Know Your Rights” Board Inside UP Police Station (emphasis added).

Figure 2.

“Know Your Rights” II (emphasis added).

Institutional Norms and Reconciliation

In some contexts, all-women police stations are associated with the “counseling” of female complainants. Some have referred to counseling as “forced moralizing” (Johari Reference Johari2019), whereby officers caution women against registering crime reports by raising discussions about the victim's status in relation to the marriage or community. Because standard police stations tackle all forms of crime (and therefore are hubs of activity), there are fewer opportunities and simply less time for (male) officers to spend time mediating between victims and abusers. If, for instance, at a standard police station, an officer believed a case to be frivolous, it would likely simply be dismissed. On the other hand, at all-women police stations—because the institutions are associated with gendered crimes only—there is more room to encourage complainants to change their behavior.

One may ask, what purpose does a resolution to a gender violence case in the form of counseling or mediation serve as opposed to the arrest of a suspect? Gender-based crimes, and dowry harassment in particular, are among the most common forms of complaints brought forward in India. Counseling enables cases to be resolved in an informal fashion to the benefit of the bureaucracy without “clogging” an overburdened criminal justice system. Then again, while counseling may be used for cases of domestic violence (Kethineni and Srinivasan Reference Kethineni and Srinivasan2009), discussions with police officers, including policewomen, reveal that counseling victims of marital rape is also seen as preferable to filing cases.

I walked into the SHO's office at the all-women station in Faridabad, Haryana, on November 11, 2017. As I approached the SHO's desk that afternoon, she was in the process of scolding a man who was standing across from her with his face bowed. Before entering, I had noticed a woman waiting outside the SHO's office (whom I later discovered was the man's wife) with her hair and forehead covered with the loop of her sari. Still, a black-and-blue bruise was clearly visible on the woman's cheek near her nose ring.

The SHO yelled, “Go back to the gully where you are from and find out how pathetic your reputation is there!” She continued, “How dare your father tell his daughter-in-law to get out of the house! Is it his damn house? She's the one earning. That's her house. Have you no shame?”

As I approached the SHO, the phone rang and she motioned me with her hand to wait. She said to the person at the other end of the phone, “Yes, the marriage will get saved. Just tell the guy to speak to his wife with affection. Look, my job is counseling. I've counseled both of them. After mediation, we will counsel. So, don't worry. The marriage will get saved.”

My impression was that someone had called the SHO about whether a crime report was going to be lodged against a family member or friend; she was intimating to the person on the other end of the line that no formal crime report would be registered.

After hanging up the phone, she resumed her rebuke of the man standing in front of her and said,

The man responded, meekly, “She doesn't want to talk to me even.”

The SHO, lowering her voice, responded, “She will. If any wife is touched, and her father-in-law kicks her out of the house, then she gets these strange ideas. Just tell your wife—‘look, my father made a mistake, he's your father too.’”

The man, regaining confidence and appearing defensive about the SHO's earlier remark about beating his wife while drunk said, “I also didn't drink that much, ma'am.”

The officer, continuing to lower her voice, told the man, “You know, it's an indication of a weak man to lay his hands on his wife . . . a very weak man. Just fix and patch up this fight. Come back on Saturday at 11 a.m. If you haven't patched up by then, we'll give you another date after that—don't worry, everything will be fine.”

The officer appeared to be trying to calm the nerves of the man and reassure him that no crime report would be lodged; during this exchange, the woman remained outside the officer's office. At this moment, turning to me, the SHO asked me my business. After explaining my purpose and my research agenda, she asked a female constable present in the room to escort the man outside, despite my protests that I could come back later. She insisted that I have tea with her so that she could tell me about all-women stations.

By the time an assistant (who was also a woman) brought the tea, the SHO and I were engaged in a discussion about her background and how long she had been working in the police. I broached the subject about the origins of the all-women police station in Haryana, and she told me that previously there existed “women's cells,” which were located inside standard police stations. The goal of those cells was to counsel female victims of gender violence into reconciliation with abusers.

The SHO said,

“Couldn't this have occurred at a standard police station?,” I asked.

In this exchange, the SHO described shockingly graphic images of women being violated in a fairly matter-of-fact tone of voice, suggesting that such complaints were not unusual. I then asked about the woman sitting outside the office and whether a crime report would be lodged against the man she had been scolding earlier.

“No. His wife doesn't want an FIR [crime report] registered. The wife wants to be counseled and patched up,” said the SHO.

“Did she come here to register a crime report?,” I asked.

The officer replied,

My sense was that the SHO was putting words in the complainant's mouth; she acknowledged that the victim had visited the institution before to register a case. The officer also used a phrase that I would hear repeatedly: “patch up.” My impression was that the focus in all-women stations was not to register or formally investigate complaints that may “ruin family dynamics” but simply to provide a safe space for complainants to talk. The dynamics illustrated a broader norm about violence against women—no matter how brutal or incessant—being a matter than can be mitigated by reprimanding abusers.

The story was the same in Varanasi. I asked a female sub-inspector what steps she followed when confronted with a case of assault.

“Well, if it's between a husband and wife, we don't follow any steps per se. We do mediation, and explain if there are any problems again with beating up of the spouse, there will be consequences,” said the sub-inspector.

“Do women officers who work here have any special training to counsel?,” I asked.

The sub-inspector responded, “No. We don't have any separate training to work in these thanas.”

“So when is it that you register a crime report?,” I queried.

I asked, “Do you think women by their nature are better suited to work with gendered crimes?”

She said, “Probably. We are more emotionally suited. If a woman is crying at a gent's police station, the male officer won't know why. We will.”

“Do you ever feel that if you write down an FIR, you're perhaps putting the girl in some more danger? Her husband and his family might punish her for going to the police? Is that a reason why you avoid registration?,” I asked.

The sub-inspector responded,

Officers also acknowledged that formally registering crime could pose a danger. For instance, when I asked a policewoman in Jaunpur about a victim's life being threatened if a case is registered, she said,

In this way, victims are not necessarily dissuaded from registering cases for malign reasons (e.g., to reduce caseloads); often, by failing to register to a case, policewomen may be protecting complainants from further retribution and, in some cases, saving their life.

When I visited the all-women police station in Sonipat on November 22, 2017, I asked the SHO about her perceptions of the efficacy of enclaves. She noted that a homogeneous environment affords a safe space for women; yet, in the same breath, she underscored how cases were rarely registered or formally investigated.

The SHO informed me,

In the foregoing quotation, the policewoman describes how repeatedly trying to counsel a victim with her abuser are the main steps to be followed. The SHO further explained,

“So, your first reaction is to save the marriage?,” I asked.

“Our first reaction is to bring all the parties to the police station. Then, yes, we start with the counseling.”

“Even if a woman is being raped by her husband?”

Similarly, the SHO in Faridabad informed me on November 11, 2017,

Qualitative insights suggest that registration of crime may not fully encapsulate the notion of “access to justice” or “police efficacy” because victims of spousal abuse may not always want to take the step of lodging a criminal case; they may seek mediation in front of an authority figure. Counseling does involve “informal” investigation in the sense that complainants and abusers are called to the police station; this act may occur repeatedly, generating a feedback loop in which abusers (and victims) change their behavior. Still, based on my observations, I witnessed many complainants explain to policewomen that they indeed sought the registration of crime but were being dissuaded from doing so. While research on all-women stations in Tamil Nadu shows that policewomen do not file case reports for crimes such as domestic violence because victims want their cases to be mediated (Kethineni and Srinivasan Reference Kethineni and Srinivasan2009), I find that this dynamic also occurs with other forms of violence against women.

How much is counseling an artifact of all-women police stations? Indeed, even standard police stations have established “counseling” centers (Business Standard India 2013). I eschew any qualitative judgment as to whether counseling is appropriate, except to note that the distinction between all-women stations and standard stations is that the former regularize the push toward reconciliation. Moreover, the emphasis on reconciliation highlights the manner in which certain forms of gender-based violence are seen as “family matters.”Footnote ²² Consider Figure 2, which depicts a bulletin board inside a police station in UP. Point 17 notes that a male relative should be present when taking a woman's testimony. I interpret this as an example of the belief that “real rape” is between a woman and a person unknown to the victim (Barn and Kumari Reference Barn and Kumari2015), because the rule disregards assault by a male family member.Footnote ²³ Policewomen posted at enclaves did not appear to view such norms differently simply because they were physically segregated.

In sum, counseling is a form of “rehabilitative” rather than “redistributive” or “formal” justice (Hoyle and Sanders Reference Hoyle and Sanders2000; Stalans Reference Stalans1996). The emphasis on reconciliation does not mean that policewomen are not doing their jobs; quite the contrary, they may be fulfilling a crucial role in the interests of the broader bureaucracy, which may seek to deprioritize cases seen as lacking in hard evidence or potentially a strain on police resources.Footnote ²⁴ Nevertheless, the findings may help to explain why, anecdotally, all-women stations have not generated the desired response (Talwari Reference Talwari2018). In fact, senior officers from the Indian Police Service (IPS) acknowledged that all-women stations were not popular among either policewomen or female victims. When I interviewed an IPS officer in Chandigarh on July 27, 2017, about his perceptions of enclaves, he said,

Diminution of Capacity

While enclaves are theorized to empower administrators by increasing their capacity, I find that group-specific institutions may in fact diminish their professionalization. Even though policewomen may be engaged in counseling at all-women stations, the service is a form of informal work that does not count as investigation of a formal case. In other words, because the number of victims whom policewomen “counsel” does not appear on their listed caseload, it is plausible that they may be evaluated as having less experience by the bureaucracy when in consideration for promotion or in the running to head a regular police station. For instance, when I visited the all-women police station in Faridabad for a second time on November 24, 2017, I asked the SHO whether she had requested to work there. The officer said, “There are no requests to be posted anywhere. They [the government] said we should have a women's police station, and it has to be run by a woman, so I'm here.”

“Do you find working here fulfilling?,” I asked.

“Well, in a gent's thana, there are a variety of crimes. Their portfolio is bigger. Ours is specific to crimes against women, rape, dowry. We are specialized. We have a bigger zone and are responsible to a district. I don't get to investigate other crimes here.” While policewomen's occupational segregation—the disproportionate assignment of gendered tasks—was also a practice in standard police stations, all-women police stations simply institutionalized such imbalance in activities, forcing female administrators staffing those units to only work on those cases explicitly listed in table 3 in the online appendix.

In fact, at standard police stations, policemen appeared content with the arrangement of separating policewomen. When I arrived at a standard police station in Meerut on November 17, 2017, I noticed that the offices were all empty except for a handful of constables and two sub-inspectors playing cards outside. I asked to speak to the SHO, but a sub-inspector told me that the officers were away on VIP duty (i.e., escorting an important person). I asked a sub-inspector, “What do you think of policewomen in the force?”

“They are good, but not for arrest. For arrest, you need to catch the guys. The men are the perpetrators. You need to arrest them. Most of the women are constables who can't investigate, the other policewomen are posted in the all-women thanas.”

“Do you think it's a good idea to have all-women police stations? There is one not far from here,” I noted.

The male sub-inspector responded, “All-women stations are important. Only women can tell other women their problems without any inhibitions.” Then, the male sub-inspector used my question as a cue to paint a broad picture of the significance of giving policewomen gendered tasks. He continued,

I highlight this quote from a policeman in Meerut because it exemplifies several points. First, policewomen, according to some policemen, are seen as useful in order to counsel—or caution—complainants from registering “fraud” cases. Second, it is evident that police officers may believe that cases involving cruelty by husbands against wives are fraudulent because they invoke a law often related to dowry harassment.Footnote ²⁵ Third, there is a sense of exhaustion among officers with the number of gender violence cases that come before the police; there is a belief that such cases are “engineered” by NGOs and that it is the duty of law enforcement to push back and “stop” the manufacture of such offenses. In this way, the policeman intimated that not only do all-women police stations have limited (frontline) work, but by grouping all the policewomen in a homogeneous enclave, the dynamic can heighten the likelihood that complainants are counseled into reconciliation. According to the policeman, counseling is a tool utilized by the police to explain to victims their “responsibilities.”

Airing of Grievances

There is evidence that all-women police stations may be effective in allowing grievances to be heard and that they are a welcome assignment for officers less inclined to frontline police work. For instance, when I interviewed the SHO of the all-women station in Noida on November 20, 2017, she said,

In this way, aside from reiterating that all-women stations are a site for “dumping” unwanted cases, the SHO expressed that she was not interested in being posted at a standard police station, where, she acknowledged, she would have more influence. I then asked the SHO why she had joined the police; she told me that she had always disliked policing but enlisted because her husband was killed during the Khalistani secessionist movement.Footnote ²⁶

At this point, a woman who was weeping barged into the SHO's office. She told the officer that her mother-in-law had been making her life a living hell. The young woman said that her mother-in-law told her to remove all her belongings from the house and get out or she would kill her and her children. The SHO brought in another female assistant sub-inspector to console the victim and informed her that she would hear the whole story once the complainant caught her breath.

Turning to me, the officer said, “Did you notice that? Do you see the positive effect of these women's police stations? The complainant didn't need to ask anyone to see the top officer. She walked right in. This wouldn't have happened at a normal police station; she'd have to wait.” About two hours later, the husband and mother-in-law of the victim showed up at the police station. They, too, walked into the SHO's office and, making themselves comfortable, asked if they could speak freely.

The officer invited the mother-in-law to relate her side of the story by saying, “Now, aunty, tell me what happened.” The old woman began explaining how she lives on the ground floor of her son's house and has been having problems with the living arrangements. The old woman said that her daughter-in-law would beat her with shoes simply because the mother-in-law asked for some money. The son—whose wife remained in the other room with the assistant sub-inspector—remained silent and appeared comfortable in having his mother speak for him. The mother-in-law explained to the SHO that she never got any jewelry at her son's wedding and that there was only one piece of gold, yet everything else was silver. The mother-in-law explained that she knew the girl was going to come to the police to register a case against her and her son, which is why she decided to come to the all-women's station to explain her side of the story. During this entire episode, the SHO listened to the mother-in-law's point of view without interruption.

Then, the SHO instructed a deputy to call the daughter-in-law into the room. The young woman, upon seeing her relatives, quickly summarized the events that led her to come to the police station. Yet, the woman spoke so quickly that she stumbled over her words. I sensed desperation and a feeling of being outnumbered; the woman appeared to be doing everything in her power to be taken seriously so that those in the room would not be able to discredit her. Still, the officer listened, telling the son and mother-in-law to be quiet as they occasionally tried to interject with the word jhoot, or “lie.”

Importantly, the SHO allowed all sides to present their perspectives and air their grievances in front of her. As I sat in the corner of the large main office, nobody appeared concerned about or even conscious of my presence. The parties were entirely focused on convincing the SHO who was right. It took almost 1.5 hours for both parties to yell at each other, with the SHO occasionally telling someone to be quiet so that she could hear the other person. At the end, no crime report was lodged. The daughter-in-law stayed at the police station refusing to leave with the others, and it was unclear when, if at all, she returned to her house.