Kolkata's Shame: When 'Safe Spaces' Turn Into Risk Zones

Barely had the shock of last year’s gruesome incident at R.G. Kar Medical College, where a medical student was raped and murdered, receded from public memory when yet another horrific crime has shaken Kolkata. This time, a law student was gang-raped inside the guard room of Calcutta Law College, allegedly by two students. The main accused has a criminal record with multiple prior charges and once led the Trinamool Chhatra Parishad unit at the same college where he studied. When the victim declined the marriage proposal of the main accused, she was subjected to this unspeakable act for what he saw as her audacity. His predatory and violent behaviour points unmistakably to a pattern—a man with a history of preying on women. What may perhaps have emboldened him was the belief that his association with a political party would help him go scot-free. Nothing underscores the egregiousness of the incident more than the fact that women are now being targeted in public spaces traditionally considered ‘safe’—educational institutions, hospitals, and even their own homes.

The Calcutta Law College incident has once again torpedoed the city’s image and raised urgent questions about campus safety and institutional accountability. The college guard, the alumnus, and two other students who stood by as the woman was being assaulted have also been arrested. Despite the massive public outrage that followed last year’s incident, the grim reality remains: women’s safety continues to be a pressing concern in a city that often prides itself on being one of the ‘safest for women’ in the country.

While the gang-rape incident has shaken the conscience of the nation, the irresponsible statements made by two male members of the Trinamool Congress—blaming the victim—have brought disrepute to a party that prides itself on having the highest number of women members in the country. In a rare act of defiance, the outspoken TMC MP Mahua Moitra publicly condemned their remarks, distancing herself from the insensitivity shown by her colleagues. In a post on X, Mahua wrote: “Misogyny in India cuts across party lines. What differentiates @AITC official is that we condemn these disgusting comments no matter who makes them.”

Data indicates that incidents of violence against women have increased since Delhi’s infamous Nirbhaya case in 2012—a crime that shocked the nation and prompted significant changes to India’s rape laws. According to the National Crime Records Bureau, India recorded an average of 25,000 rape cases annually in 2012. In the years that followed, this figure consistently exceeded 30,000. Regrettably, Bengal—including Kolkata and its surrounding districts—has continued to feature among the regions where such atrocities are reported with disturbing regularity.

Despite the introduction of stricter laws—such as the expansion of the definition of rape and the inclusion of the death penalty in cases involving minor victims—these sharper legal measures have failed to act as effective deterrents. A major concern remains the low conviction rate. In India, fewer than 30% of rape cases result in conviction, a figure significantly lower than in countries like the United Kingdom, where the conviction rate for rape-related cases stood at 60.2% in 2023–24.

An intriguing aspect of our political culture is that, despite serious crimes against women in various states, including West Bengal, the ruling parties are often voted back to power. This suggests that public outrage over issues like rape and gender-based violence rarely translates into a significant political shift or change in leadership.

Kolkata Law Student Gangrape Case: Calcutta HC Orders Closure Of Union Rooms In All Colleges

The question is: can things really change on the ground? Whenever incidents of rape occur in urban areas, they trigger a high-octane blame game on television debates—a fiery concerto of clashing opinions, with each political spokesperson adding their own dramatic flourish to the cacophony. But these theatrical performances do little to disrupt the deeply ingrained mindsets of alpha males, whether that of a rapist or of those who perpetuate misogyny through politics.

While crimes against women in urban areas are passionately debated, dissected and analysed in the media, the reality in rural and backward regions remains starkly different. Here, Dalit and Adivasi women continue to suffer sexual violence, yet their stories rarely reach the mainstream.

Kolkata, once celebrated as the intellectual and cultural heart of India, home to poets, philosophers, and reformers, now finds itself grappling with a disturbing contradiction. Two heinous incidents of rape have shaken its moral core. These are not just isolated crimes; they represent a betrayal of the very ideals Kolkata has long prided itself on: compassion, justice, and progressive thought. Kolkata must rise to reclaim its voice, not just as a seat of culture but as a city that fiercely protects the dignity and safety of all its people.

The writer is an independent journalist.