Flawed recognition

Rodela was visibly proud while she and the rest of her community hosted journalists who had come to see their mosque.

“Now that we have our mosque, we can recite the Quran here whenever we want,” said the 21-year-old hijra. “No one can make bad comments about us anymore.”

Earlier this year, a community of hijras in Mymensingh in northcentral Bangladesh built themselves a modest mosque along the banks of the Brahmaputra River. Consisting of a single room with a tin roof, the structure that stands on land donated by the government is considered by many as a significant stride toward inclusivity and tolerance within religious spaces in the Muslim-majority nation. 

Yet, it is also a reminder that despite legal recognition of the hijra as the third gender in Bangladesh, as well as the acknowledgment of religious leaders that they are part of the Muslim community, hijras still struggle for acceptance.

It hadn’t always been like this. Centuries ago, hijras – who in plain terms are considered to be neither men nor women – were valued members of South Asian society with important cultural, social, and political roles. Ancient texts like the Vedas and the Mahabharata mention a third gender. During the Sultanate and Mughal periods in pre-colonial India, hijras held prestigious positions in royal courts, serving as advisors, guardians of harems, and administrators. They participated in cultural and religious ceremonies, blessing newborns and weddings.

The arrival in the subcontinent of the British in the 18th century brought significant changes for hijras. Influenced by Victorian morality, the British colonialists viewed hijras through a Western lens, intolerant of gender non-conformity. In 1864, Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code criminalized non-procreative sexual activities, thereby affecting hijras. The Criminal Tribes Act of 1871 further marginalized hijras by labeling them a “criminal tribe,” and subjecting them to surveillance and persecution. From being respected figures in society, the hijras became outcasts. 

After India’s independence in 1947, the colonial legacy persisted, and hijras continued to face discrimination and legal challenges. But in Bangladesh, which became independent from Pakistan in 1971, ensuring the fundamental rights and social security of the hijras became part of the agenda of the Ministry of Social Welfare in 2013. This was the same year that the government decided to recognize hijras as the third gender, officially doing so in January 2014.

Marginalization and narrow definition

A decade later, however, little has changed for the hijras. Joyita Tonu, the 29-year-old leader of the hijras in Mymensingh, said that due to the hostile attitudes of relatives and neighbors, most of them leave their families at some point. They also drop out of school because of bullying, rendering them without much education. 

Besides discrimination from would-be employers, their lack of education narrows down the hijras’ opportunities for employment. Hijras have thus resorted to the giving of blessings as a means to support themselves, although they are better known for begging and sex work. 

A 2016 report by the international rights monitor Human Rights Watch (HRW) pointed out, “Their involvement in the latter occupations both reflects their social marginalization and helps fuel it.”

That marginalization also makes them nearly homeless, because landlords – and neighbors – usually do not want them around. It even extends to spiritual spaces. The Mymensingh hijras, for instance, used to go to a local mosque with other residents in the neighborhood. They also helped in running the mosque and received Quran education there. 

But late last year, misleading information about Islamic practices and hijras began to spread. Eventually, the imam of the mosque was forbidden from teaching them the Quran, and they were banned from praying in the mosque.

Mymensingh Divisional Commissioner Ommey Salma Tanzia told Asia Democracy Chronicles (ADC), “I attended one of their programs. After the program, some of them shared their problems with me and requested a mosque. When I heard about their problem, it really hurt me.

“I tried my best for them,” said Tanzia, who eventually helped the hijras get a land donation from the government for their mosque. “As a government officer, it’s my duty to serve people. As we are in an inclusive society, they are also part of our society.”

“As long as I have been in this mosque, I have been impressed by their character and belief in God,” said the mosque’s imam Mohammad Karimul Islam of the hijras, who have even invited other locals to join them in their prayers. “In this mosque, they pray with the local people, and I feel proud that I got a chance to serve them.”

Tanzia, meanwhile, also told ADC that government employees should follow government instructions for the development of hijras.

Among the objectives of the Department of Social Services are providing stipends to hijra students to help them become educated; enhancing the skills of young hijras and involving them in income-generating activities through training; ensuring the socio-economic development and social security of elderly hijras; and increasing the respect and dignity of hijra individuals within their families and society.

But observers have noted that the government’s plans for the hijras are often clumsily implemented and not well thought out. For example, a school specifically for hijras, which was opened in 2020, turned out to be a madrasah or an Islamic educational institution, thereby leaving out non-Muslim hijras in Bangladesh. 

Offers of jobs at state institutions came to naught due to the government’s apparent narrow – and, some say, demeaning – definition of ‘hijra.’ 

“The Bangla expression used by the state to recognize the hijra is ‘jouno o lingo protibondi’: literally, sexually and genetically handicapped,” wrote anthropologist Adnan Hossain in a 2017 paper. 

That officials decided to retain the word ‘hijra’ without translation in documents and policies regarding the third gender, he said, “worked to ensure that recognition was granted to the hijra, who the people of Bangladesh understood to be disfigured rather than the occupiers of a subject position that might inadvertently recognize or validate alternative sexual desires.” 

Obviously, though, this definition and popular reception ignored the fact that, as Hossain wrote, “(in) Bangladesh, there are both hijra with a penis as well as those without one.” 

‘Fake’ hijras?

Unsurprisingly, a government directive to offer state jobs to hijras in 2014 resulted in disaster. Not only was no hijra hired, even those who were shortlisted for jobs that ranged from school attendants to guards were branded publicly as “men pretending to be hijras” so they could be employed.    

The HRW 2016 report that documented the fiasco said that aside from interviews, the hijras applying for the slots were made to undergo medical examinations, during which they were ordered to strip. Because all of them were found not “sexually and genetically handicapped,” they were declared to be men, and not hijras.

Interestingly, the state definition, along with popular perception, hews close to how Muslim religious leaders in the country see who should be considered as hijra.

“Those whom Allah has created as sexually disabled are hijra, while others who are not hijra or sexually disabled but claim a different gender — such as a man claiming to be a woman or a woman claiming to be a man — are referred to as transgender,” said Mufti Abdur Rahman Azad, founder of a hijra charity. “Islam does not permit transgender identities.”

Hafez Mufti Saiful Islam, for his part, said that it is “difficult to say” who is hijra “without a medical test.” But he said that “they need more mental support than healthy people.” Both religious leaders, though, agreed that hijras have been “neglected” despite being part of society.

Jahangirnagar University anthropology professor Rezwana Karim Snigdha commented, “Both transgender and hijra individuals belong to the gender-diverse community. However, homosexuality and gender diversity are not the same.” 

In what could help explain why hijras continue to be ostracized, Snigdha said that in Bangladesh, some people wrongly label gender-diverse people as homosexuals, thereby presenting misleading and misguided information.

Snigdha further remarked, “’Transgender’ is a Western umbrella term, which in Bengali translates to ‘rupantorito jonogoshti (transformed community).’ Simply put, if you identify with a gender different from your birth gender or assigned identity, you can be recognized as having a trans identity. There are two categories within transgender: trans man and trans woman.”

By contrast, she said, “The hijra community includes various diversities, such as janka, janana, chibri, koti, and more. The hijra culture is associated with various customs, and the community also includes a significant number of trans individuals.”

A community of diversities

In the hijra community, janka typically refers to those born male but do not identify with the traditional male gender roles. They may transition to a more feminine role within the hijra community, but would not opt to undergo surgical or medical interventions to align their body with their gender identity.

Janana refers to those who express themselves in a traditionally feminine manner. Whether or not they undergo surgery or medical procedures for gender reassignment, their identity and role in the community are more closely aligned with traditional notions of femininity.

Chibri is a term used to describe those who might not fully conform to the expected roles of either femininity or masculinity. They may navigate between these roles and often play a more fluid part within the community. Chibris might adopt certain aspects of both genders without entirely fitting into one defined role, embodying a more diverse gender expression.

Kothi refers to those born male but identify as female and behave in feminine ways, and often engage in same-sex relationships. Koti individuals share some cultural and social affiliations with hijras, even as they might or might not belong to the broader hijra community. 

Because the state definition ignores these diversities, many hijras are either hesitant or simply unable to be part of government programs that are supposed to be for their benefit, especially if availment requires a medical examination.

But at least in a small corner of Mymensingh, Muslim hijras are now able to worship in peace, and with dignity. Said their mosque’s imam: “Like other people, they are also God’s creations. There is no discrimination in religion. Allah has revealed the Quran to everyone. So, everyone has the right to pray. No one can deny anyone.” ◉