Why the personal is political for social activist Aruna Roy
Aruna Roy talks about five decades of activism and how to keep the fight as fresh and vigorous in the age of social media politics
In the realm of Indian activism, Aruna Roy stands as a towering figure.
After a career in India’s civil service, which began in 1968, failed to ignite her passion for change, she moved to social activism. Today, Roy is one of the country’s most seasoned civil rights advocates and a repository of stories about change.
Roy’s voice and lessons are more critical than ever as cyber politics act as the life force for extreme polarisation within social media echo chambers. This is why her latest work, The Personal Is Political: An Activist Memoir comes as a profound exploration of activism from the inside out, backed by the collective experiences of the women and communities she has worked with.
In 1974, Roy left the IAS to join the Social Work and Research Centre, a rural-development organisation in Tilonia in Rajasthan (founded by her husband Bunker Roy).
“Those were days when we came into this space not inspired from textbooks, or only our narrowed lived experiences. We came with a large, inherited vision for India from our past leaders, the drive to do something for the people,” says Aruna explaining why she left the comforts of a career in civil service.
“But I found that no matter what you did, ultimately the democratic process hit you. Whoever got elected to Parliament, to the Panchayat, was unaccountable and non-transparent, and much of the resources meant for the disadvantaged, weren’t reaching them,” she says.
Roy also saw that there were many barriers between her and the people—too many transfers and corruption.
“So I left,” she says.
Relocating to Tilonia, Rajasthan, Roy joined forces with her husband, Bunker, at the Barefoot College Social Work and Research Centre. Here, in a stark departure from her former bureaucratic life, she encountered the scathing realities of rural existence.
Her first interaction in a Tilonia household was a revelatory moment. A woman’s offhand dismissal of her presence was a jarring reminder that without official authority, her role as an activist would be fraught with challenges.
This formative experience underscored a crucial lesson: genuine change often begins with personal humility and grassroots engagement.
She moved to the village and lived with the people, as one of them. “We understood their problems like our own,” says Roy. “When it rained, our roofs leaked too and our sleep was disrupted too. There was no question of seeing the villagers from outside and feeling sorry.
“As I kept becoming smaller, my life had fewer contradictions. What I was thinking and doing weren’t that dissimilar. Thishat brought so much peace, and joy,” says Roy.
In 1990, Roy moved to Devdungri, also in Rajasthan, and set up the Workers and Peasants Strength Union (Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan; MKSS), an organisation devoted to empowering workers and peasants and increasing the accountability of local governments.
The MKSS was pivotal in championing the Right to Information (RTI) Act, the landmark legislation passed in 2005. The RTI Act, catalysed by the relentless efforts of Roy and her colleagues, has empowered millions of Indians to seek accountability and transparency from public institutions.
Today, around one crore RTI applications are filed per year.
Roy’s tenure on India’s National Advisory Council from 2004 to 2006, and again from 2010 to 2013, was instrumental in shaping critical legislations such as the Right to Employment (Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act 2005 or MGNREGA) and the Right to Food.
Through The Personal Is Political, Roy invites readers to delve into the complexities of activism, exploring not just the triumphs but also the struggles and personal costs involved. Her narrative sheds light on the intricacies of navigating the intersection between personal convictions and public action, emphasising that activism is as much about personal growth and resilience as it is about societal change.
“Mine was a generation that celebrated and lauded people doing this work,” says Roy. “Now, somehow, that needle has shifted; activism is often the bad word, and; being an activist is equivalent to being an urban naxalite or an antinational,” she says.
To retrieve respect for the role would be to understand that activism is not a nucleus, says Roy.
“As fellow travelers on the earth, we all feel things; we feel bad when something terrible happens, we feel there should be more justice and no corruption. Only, an activist chooses to act. Social activists see social tragedies and become amplifiers of the voice of the vulnerable."
Edited by Affirunisa Kankudti