Amartya Sen poses an essential question in The Argumentative Indian: has India’s tradition of argumentation been accessible to everyone, or has it mostly served the elite, especially male? Sen acknowledges that deep inequalities—gender, class, caste, and community—have often shaped participation, but he admits that “the story here is… much more complex than a simple generalization can capture.”1 His caution against oversimplification is crucial, especially when considering how women, although sometimes marginalized in these traditions, are represented as significant agents in their own right.
When I mentioned Sen’s viewpoint to my nephew’s wife, suggesting, “Sen, as a single man, believes women were deprived of their right to argue,” she smiled in agreement, seeing that in reality, Indian women are not only argumentative but often win by their strength, patience, and persistence.
In Indian society, patriarchy is prevalent, but this “deprived” image of women doesn’t capture the entire reality. Women in literature, epics, and every household have wielded influence and engaged persuasively, often achieving their ends. Men may argue in words, but women argue with presence, planning, and action. As I often advise husbands, “Before engaging in an argument with your wife, wave the white flag—she’ll win in the end.” This playful advice points to a larger truth about the effective influence women exercise across domains, from family life to the epic tales themselves.
To explore this, let’s look at The Ramayana and The Mahabharata.
Women’s Influence and Arguments in The Epics
Sen is right to question the limits of participation and representation in classical texts, particularly as they often depict male perspectives. Yet the female characters frequently emerge as powerful, persuasive, and ultimately successful in shaping outcomes. Their victories may come at personal costs, but they underscore women’s agency.
Kaikeyi’s Complex Victory
Kaikeyi’s character exemplifies the power and complexity of a woman’s victory, though she often faces criticism. In Valmiki’s Ramayana, Kaikeyi uses her promises from Dasharatha to secure the crown for Bharata and banish Rama. Her determination ultimately breaks Dasharatha’s will, though her “victory” results in both sorrow and regret, as she later realizes the painful consequences of her actions. In Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas, she’s portrayed as manipulated by Manthara, adding nuance to her role, while in Kamban’s Ramavataram, she’s depicted as strong but remorseful, showing that her intent was sincere, if misguided.
Notably, Kaikeyi is often judged harshly in traditional pattimandrams (debates), where she’s cast as scheming. Yet, some scholars, such as Prof. Revathi Krupakaran, argue that Kaikeyi’s actions served a larger purpose in Rama’s avatar, as they allowed Rama to fulfill his divine mission of vanquishing asuras. In this light, she becomes an instrument of fate, and even Rama, upon reuniting with Dasharatha’s spirit, requests his father’s forgiveness for Kaikeyi.
Kaikeyi’s restraint in the face of accusations is also notable. Like many who are blamed for misunderstood intentions, she does not defend her actions, instead allowing “time to tell” her story. Kaikeyi, in her silence, may have understood the profound truth that history itself would reveal her motives and that her decisions, while divisive, moved the entire epic forward.
Sita’s Resilience and Sacrifice
Sita exemplifies how victories often come at personal cost. Her persistence and strength manifest in different arguments across The Ramayana:
1. Persuading Rama to Let Her Go to the Forest: In every version, Sita “wins” by convincing Rama to take her along, presenting an argument based on love, duty, and her role as a wife. Her determination highlights her commitment to standing by him, illustrating her quiet strength. This resonates with many Indian women, like my mother, who, when asked to return to her family’s home during my father’s business struggles, replied, “Where Rama is, that is Ayodhya for Sita.” Her resolve to stand by her husband through challenges is a testament to Sita’s legacy.
2. Insistence on Pursuing the Golden Deer: Though Rama initially resists, Sita persuades him to pursue the deer, setting off a tragic sequence of events. Her victory here shows her influence, but it also results in her abduction, demonstrating the sometimes costly nature of her wins.
3. The Agni Pariksha: Although Sita agrees to undergo the fire ordeal to prove her chastity, this “victory” is one of moral fortitude rather than personal satisfaction. She emerges as unyielding in her purity, though the trial underscores the societal pressures placed on her.
Refusal to Re-enter Society in Uttara Kandam: After Rama, influenced by rumors about Sita’s captivity in Lanka, banishes her to the forest, it is Valmiki who sends Lava and Kusha to meet Rama during his Rajasuya sacrifice. Upon hearing their story, Rama realizes they are his sons and sends for Sita. Sita returns to Ayodhya, but upon meeting Rama, she severely rebukes him for his actions and the suffering she endured. She refuses to accept his terms for reconciliation, choosing instead to assert her autonomy and dignity. Ultimately, despite being offered a return, she chooses to enter the earth, her mother, symbolizing her final act of self-determination and strength in agency. In this moment, Sita defines her fate on her own terms, rejecting the compromises imposed upon her and embodying ultimate strength in choosing her own destiny.
Even in her final departure, Sita’s resilience reveals a victory of moral and emotional strength, embodying the dignity and inner worth that endure beyond circumstance.
Tara’s Diplomacy and Leadership
Tara, Sugriva’s wife, emerges as a voice of reason in The Ramayana. When Sugriva grieves Vali’s death and hesitates to assume the throne, Tara persuades him with wisdom and compassion. In Valmiki’s version, her strength lies in her diplomatic reasoning, while Tulsidas highlights her stabilizing influence. Kamban paints her as a grieving widow who also possesses diplomatic insight, skillfully balancing personal loss with her duty to the kingdom.
Tara’s intelligence is further highlighted when she pacifies Lakshmana after Sugriva fails to keep his promise to aid Rama. In her composed manner, she not only defuses Lakshmana’s anger but appeals to his empathy, presenting herself as a mother figure—a striking example of her persuasive power and wisdom.
Surpanakha’s Manipulative Intentions
Surpanakha’s encounter with Rama illustrates another form of complex agency. While she initially desires Rama, her motives shift when she realizes his strength and sees an opportunity for revenge. When questioned by Ravana, instead of directly blaming her misfortune, she describes Sita’s beauty in a way that incites Ravana’s lust and sets off a chain of events leading to war. By using indirect persuasion, Surpanakha achieves her aim of vengeance as Ravana killed her husband, through Ravana’s impulsive desires, exemplifying cunning and strategic influence.
Male Failures in Upholding Dharma
In addition to showcasing women’s victories, the epics reveal male failures that often stem from adhering rigidly to ideals or societal pressures.
1. Rama’s Failure as a Husband: When Rama sends a pregnant Sita to the forest based on rumors, he prioritizes his role as king over his duty as husband. This decision, though framed as dharma-bound, underscores a failure to protect Sita. By ignoring alternative options, such as delegating the throne to a sibling and accompanying Sita, Rama’s choice reflects the tragic limitations of rigidly interpreted dharma. As Sita had already proven her innocence in Lanka, the banish to forest further proof betrays an unjust societal expectation.
I wonder how Rama, who mourned deeply when Sita was abducted by Ravana and even threatened to burn down the entire world in his wrath, later banished her, seemingly without the same love and affection—even when she was carrying his children. Perhaps he preferred to rule a kingdom that demanded honor above all, fearing the impact of gossip, over being with a wife he saw as challenging and dominant, perhaps even viewing her as someone he long wished to remove from his life. Sita, it seems, dominated much of Rama’s life, especially after the early days of their marriage. Though Rama was brave and strong both in body and mind, when it came to his wife, he, like many husbands, softened, often tolerating her influence.
It’s worth noting that the stories of Sita’s exile, the birth of Lava and Kusha, and much of the Uttarakanda are not part of the original Valmiki Ramayana, but were likely later additions. This is a common feature in Indian literature and scripture, as well as in other traditions, where later narratives were introduced to convey particular values or ideas. Therefore, when interpreting Sita’s resilience, especially in the Uttarakanda, it’s wise to approach it with caution, recognizing both the lessons in the human relationships portrayed and the need for discernment in interpreting such complex dynamics.
Narrating the human side of Rama, or any avatara, deserves its own dedicated article. Given the depth and complexity of this theme, I plan to present it as a separate piece titled *Avatara Rahasya: Understanding the Human Side of Divinity*.
Draupadi of Mahabharata:
In the Mahabharata, Draupadi stands as a symbol of strength, wisdom, and perseverance. Her arguments not only serve as a focal point for justice but also catalyze crucial decisions that shape the destiny of her husbands and the entire kingdom. In the famous dice game, after her humiliating loss to Duryodhana, Draupadi confronts the assembly with a compelling argument about the adharma (unrighteousness) they have all committed, particularly the treatment she endured. Her words resonate deeply, even winning the heart of Dhritarashtra, who grants her the boon to free her husbands from their bondage, thus releasing them from the shame of their defeat.—p. 59
Later, Draupadi’s role becomes even more pivotal as she encourages her husband Yudhishthira to embrace his rightful place as a warrior. When he hesitates to engage in battle, mired in doubt and moral dilemma, she persuades him to take up arms to reclaim the kingdom, showing no tolerance for indecision. In the aftermath of the war, when Yudhishthira contemplates renouncing the throne in sorrow and guilt over the immense loss of life, Draupadi’s arguments again shine through. She urges him not to let despair govern his destiny and advises him to accept the throne, enjoy its pleasures, and lead the kingdom with dignity. Her encouragement is not only a call to duty but also a powerful assertion of agency, urging her husband to claim what is rightfully his.
Through these pivotal moments, Draupadi exemplifies a woman’s ability to shape the course of events through persuasion, intellectual rigor, and moral authority, asserting her agency and challenging those around her, whether in the royal court or on the battlefield.
This reflects Draupadi’s active role in both securing her husbands’ release and guiding them through critical moments in the Mahabharata, highlighting her as a leader, strategist, and voice of reason.
We also see Kannaki’s strength in Silapathikaram, where, upon her husband’s wrongful execution, she argues passionately with the king and eventually proves her husband’s innocence, demonstrating the depth of her character and moral force.
Conclusion: Women’s Enduring Influence
Ultimately, whether in scripture or daily life, women’s victories transcend mere words. From household dynamics to literary representation, women often wield influence in unseen but profound ways. While male voices dominate the epic narratives, female characters win through resilience, intelligence, and, at times, silence—allowing “time to tell” their story.
In a humorous vein, it’s said that one family friend—a lawyer known for his argumentative nature—explained his talkativeness thus: “My grandfather was a politician, my father a lecturer, I’m a lawyer, and my mother is a woman.” This quip humorously encapsulates the enduring influence of women’s argumentative prowess, from home to kingdom.
Notes
1 There is, however, a serious question to be asked as to whether the tradition of arguments and disputations has been confined to an exclusive part of the Indian population – perhaps just to the members of the male elite. It would, of course, be hard to expect that argumentational participation would be uniformly distributed over all segments of the population, but India has had deep inequalities along the lines of gender, class, caste and community (on which more presently). The social relevance of the argumentative tradition would be severely limited if disadvantaged sections were effectively barred from participation. The story here is, however much more complex than a simple generalization can capture. –Sen, The Argumentative Indian, New Delhi, Penguin Books, London, 2005, p. 6
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