In the aftermath of youth protests over education reforms across Indian cities, Prime Minister Modi's selective condemnation of women protesters' profanity has opened a deeper question about who is permitted to speak — and how — in Indian public life. Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi named the contradiction plainly: when men swear in protest, it passes unremarked, but when women do, it becomes a matter of national culture and propriety. The controversy, which drove a fifteen-year-old girl and her family from their home after a torrent of online threats, has drawn India into a long-overdue reckon
India's gender double standard: Why women's swearing sparks outrage
If boys swear, there is no problem. If a girl swears, it is a cultural shock.
So Modi called it a culture shock to see women swearing. Why does that phrase matter so much?
Because he didn't say the same thing about the men who were swearing right alongside them. He singled out the women, which tells you what he actually thinks is shocking—not the profanity itself, but women using it.
And Gandhi's point is that this reveals something deeper about how India treats women?
Exactly. He's saying it's patriarchy dressed up as concern for decorum. Men get to swear, protest, be loud. Women get told they're violating something sacred just by using the same words.
But there's a fifteen-year-old girl in this story who got rape threats. That's not just about double standards—that's violence.
Right. The double standard isn't abstract. It has consequences. Her family had to move multiple times. She apologized publicly. And it still didn't stop. That's what happens when you're a woman who steps out of line.
The journalist Bhandare mentions that women in Indian villages sing expletives at weddings and nobody cares. So swearing itself isn't the real issue?
No. It's about power and who gets to speak. When women use language on their own terms, in protest, suddenly it's a crisis. But when it's part of tradition, or when men do it, it's fine.
What does the activist Jalan think about all this?
He wants to shift the conversation away from gender entirely—focus on swearing as a problem in society, period. But that might miss the point. The gender part is the point.
So what changes?
That's the question. Right now, the outrage is all about policing women's speech. Until that changes, nothing really does.
El Pulso
- Young women protesters who swore at Prime Minister Modi during education reform demonstrations were singled out for condemnation while male protesters using identical language were left unchallenged.
- A fifteen-year-old girl became the human cost of this double standard — her viral protest video drew rape threats and relentless harassment, forcing her family to repeatedly flee their home even after she publicly apologized.
- Rahul Gandhi turned the contradiction into a political flashpoint, accusing Modi of applying patriarchal logic to silence women's dissent while ignoring his own history of misogynistic public remarks.
- Journalists and gender scholars point out that women's profanity is embedded in Indian tradition — from wedding rituals in northern villages to everyday speech — making the sudden moral outrage appear targeted rather than principled.
- Sociologists warn that the broader surge of expletives into parliament, courtrooms, and state media is not merely a cultural curiosity but a symptom of democratic breakdown, as citizens who feel unheard reach for language that cannot be ignored.
In the aftermath of youth protests over education reforms across Indian cities, Prime Minister Modi's selective condemnation of women protesters' profanity has opened a deeper question about who is permitted to speak — and how — in Indian public life. Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi named the contradiction plainly: when men swear in protest, it passes unremarked, but when women do, it becomes a matter of national culture and propriety. The controversy, which drove a fifteen-year-old girl and her family from their home after a torrent of online threats, has drawn India into a long-overdue reckoning with the gendered architecture of political speech.
When Prime Minister Narendra Modi responded to young women who had sworn at him during weeks of protests over education reforms, he called what he saw a 'culture shock' — framing their language as a breach of propriety he was willing to forgive. His supporters amplified the condemnation. What he did not address was that male protesters had used the same language without drawing a word of rebuke.
Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi made that silence the centerpiece of a speech at a student gathering in Pune. Boys who swear face no consequences, he argued, while girls who swear become a national scandal. He named it plainly: patriarchy. The criticism landed harder given Modi's own record of colorful political language, including past remarks that journalists covering gender issues have catalogued in detail.
The most painful dimension of the story belongs to a fifteen-year-old girl whose protest video spread across social media. She received rape threats and sustained abuse, issued a public apology, and removed the video — yet the harassment continued. Her mother, raising her alone, told local media the family had been forced to move multiple times. The government eventually opened an investigation into abusive posts, though critics noted the inquiry came only after the prime minister's supporters had already done considerable damage.
Gender journalist Namita Bhandare observed that women's profanity is neither new nor hidden in India — northern wedding traditions include expletive-laden songs performed by women as a matter of ritual. The outrage, she argued, is selective by design. Meanwhile, a social activist running a decade-long campaign against cuss words offered survey data showing that more than half of Indians across 28 states admit to using foul language regularly, with rates reaching 80 percent in Delhi.
Younger protesters see profanity as inseparable from the shock-and-awe logic of dissent — distasteful to some, perhaps, but never criminal. Sociologist Shiv Vishwanathan reads the broader surge of expletives into parliament and courtrooms as something more troubling: a sign that argument itself is failing, that when people no longer feel heard, language degrades alongside democracy. Whether India's current controversy will lead to a genuine examination of how political speech is policed — or simply reinforce the existing rules for women — remains the open question.
When Prime Minister Narendra Modi released a video response to young women who had sworn at him during weeks of protests over education reforms in Delhi and other cities, he called what he witnessed a "culture shock." The women had been part of the Cockroach Janta Party demonstrations, directing their anger at the government with language that drew swift condemnation from Modi's supporters and even some of his critics. Modi's framing of the incident—treating the women's expletives as a breach of propriety worthy of forgiveness—has now become the focal point of a larger argument about how India judges political speech along gender lines.
Opposition leader Rahul Gandhi seized on the contradiction at a student gathering in Pune weeks later. Both male and female protesters had used foul language during the demonstrations, Gandhi pointed out, yet Modi had singled out only the women. "If boys swear, there is no problem and it is allowed," Gandhi said. "But if a girl swears, it is a cultural shock." He framed Modi's selective criticism as rooted in patriarchy—a system that grants men freedom to speak as they wish while policing women's words as violations of decorum.
The human toll of this double standard became visible in the case of a fifteen-year-old girl whose protest video went viral on social media. Trolls descended on her with abuse and rape threats. She released a public apology for her language and took down her video, but the harassment continued. Her mother, a single parent, told local media that the family had been forced to relocate multiple times as a result of the controversy. Meanwhile, Modi's government opened an investigation into abusive posts—a response that critics noted came only after the prime minister's supporters had already mobilized against the young protesters.
Journalist Namita Bhandare, who writes on gender issues for the Hindustan Times, told the BBC that the outrage reveals a profound inconsistency. Women in India swear regularly, she noted—it is not a new phenomenon. In villages across northern India, wedding rituals include women from the bride's family singing expletive-laden songs to welcome the groom's party, a tradition no one finds shocking. Yet when young women use profanity in political protest, suddenly the nation's moral guardians awaken. Bhandare pointed to Modi's own record: in 2004, he used the term "Jersey cow" to describe a political opponent; in 2012, he referred to someone as "girlfriend worth 500 million rupees." Such language, she argued, demonstrates the double standard at work. "Women are treated so shabbily and it's so easy to target them," Bhandare said. "And then when they use profanity, everyone asks, how can our girls cuss and swear."
Sunil Jalan, a social activist running the Gali Bandh Abhiyan—a campaign against cuss words since 2014—takes a different angle. His NGO surveyed more than 70,000 people across 28 Indian states and eight federally administered territories last year, finding that 55 percent admitted to using foul language. The 2025 Gali Map of India revealed stark regional variation: 80 percent in Delhi, 78 percent in Punjab, 74 percent in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, while most southern states fell below 44 percent and the northeast between 15 and 18 percent. Jalan argues the focus should be on swearing itself, not the gender of who swears. "This is the first time in the country that a dialogue over foul language is taking place," he told the BBC, "and hopefully something good will come out of it."
Yet younger Indians see the issue differently. Sourav Das, a spokesperson for the Cockroach Janta Party, told the BBC that profanity and protest have long been intertwined. "There's a shock-and-awe factor to it, which is fundamental to protest," he said. "It may be distasteful to some people and not to others. But it absolutely can't be criminal." The use of expletives has become increasingly common across Indian public life—in television debates, courtrooms, and parliament itself. A video that circulated recently showed a female presenter on the government-owned Doordarshan channel struggling to manage a temple priest who unleashed a barrage of cuss words at a Congress party spokesman, who then responded in kind.
Sociologist Shiv Vishwanathan frames the rising tide of profanity as symptomatic of democratic erosion. When expletives appear in parliament and courts, he argues, it signals a breakdown of language, a decline of argument, and ultimately a decline of democracy itself. The use of profanity by protesters, he suggests, reflects a weakening sense of mutual respect—when people no longer feel heard or respected, expletives become their response. The question India now faces is whether the outrage over young women's swearing will prompt a genuine reckoning with how the country conducts political discourse, or whether the focus will remain narrowly on policing women's speech while leaving men's unchecked.
Citas Notables
Women are treated so shabbily and it's so easy to target them. And then when they use profanity, everyone asks, how can our girls cuss and swear.— Journalist Namita Bhandare, Hindustan Times
The use of expletives is the symptom of a deeper breakdown of democracy. It shows there's an end of discussion and a lack of respect.— Sociologist Shiv Vishwanathan