(Trigger warning: Mentions of cases involving physical & sexual violence against women)
On 26 February, members of the Bajrang Dal led a procession in Munger, Bihar, with a tableau on ‘love jihad' – a conspiracy theory that has gained traction over the past decade. The procession featured the ‘recreation’ of a crime – what looked like a woman’s body parts stored in a refrigerator.
The words 'Dharm se hata, tukdo main kata' are written on the refrigerator door with a material meant to represent blood.
The usage of this macabre imagery serves a simple purpose – sensationalism. This sensationalism, the imagery, overshadows the actual issue. It bulldozes over the context and nuance of a conversation like this.
It uses ‘fear’ as a medium of propagation for bigotry. Who wouldn't see that image and immediately be up in arms to prevent it from ever happening again? And a huge part of why this sensationalism works or is so easily employed is rooted in the way crimes against women are reported and discussed in the media.
The imagery was clearly linked to the 2022 Shraddha Walkar case.
It's also one of the cases that exposed the glaring faults in the way we report crimes against women. Most news reports focus on reporting and regurgitating minute details of isolated crimes, over and over again.
A Double-Edged Sword: How Much Do We Need to Know?
Reporting on crimes against women in India is a double-edged sword. For one, journalists can't NOT report these cases – for too long, crimes against women have been relegated to closed spaces, to households. How often has the phrase ‘Ghar ki baat ghar pe rehni chahiye’ been used in that context?
In such a scenario, the media has a responsibility of removing these cases from the private sphere.
However, that doesn't negate the second responsibility they have – fair and accurate reporting. A lot of reportage around women's issues, especially in cases of heinous crimes that become national talking points (always individual cases), is reactive. The media ‘reacts’ to the news instead of focusing on the social context of these crimes.
This ‘reaction’ often ranges from rage to placing the onus of justice on the judicial system. While addressing lapses in investigations is crucial, rarely anyone discusses the need for ‘change’.
When we stop presenting crimes against women as individual stories that deserve our attention, we challenge the idea that people are ‘powerless’ in the grand scheme of things.
One doesn't even need to go too far into the past to understand the problem – read the reportage about the Shraddha Walkar case (2022), the Himani Narwal murder case (2025), or the Pune bus rape case (2025) and ask yourself how often the reports cover social context.
It's easy to find out details like the colour of the suitcase and the exact modus operandi but we rarely look into the way patriarchy, and the power balance it inevitably leads to, contribute to these crimes.
Ironically, the Bajrang Dal’s decision to include the reference to the Walkar case in their ‘love jihad’ tableau is proof of why incidents shouldn’t be looked at in isolation. It relies on the sensationalism of the subject and coopts it for a different conversation.
Even the Narwal case was given a communal angle by users on social media. More often than not, misinformation regarding ‘love jihad’ is attached to unrelated cases, adding fire to the conspiracy theory.
What this successfully does is take attention further away from the need to address societal issues and inadequacies that lead to gendered violence. And as responsible citizens and media professionals, it is important to course correct.
Clickbait vs. Ethics: Finding the Balance
The United Nations Entity for Gender Equality and the Empowerment of Women classifies violence against women and girls as “one of the most systematic and widespread human rights violations.”
“It is rooted in gendered social structures rather than individual and random acts; it cuts across age, socio-economic, educational and geographic boundaries; affects all societies; and is a major obstacle to ending gender inequality and discrimination globally,” it notes.
With the recognition that violence against women is part of a bigger issue, we can start to report on women’s issues even if they aren’t isolated incidents that ‘shake the nation’. For instance, while the news that is already widely reported is important, there’s news that shouldn’t fall through the cracks. The only reason it does is because the media sensationalises some news and doesn’t give the proper, balanced attention to others.
The dramatic music and clickbait headlines also contribute to this phenomenon.
As a result, there’s a lower chance of you knowing that the Allahabad High Court granted bail to a man accused of rape on the condition that he marry the survivor within three months. This is not an isolated incident. In 2024, the Karnataka High Court passed a similar order – granting bail to a 23-year-old accused of rape to marry the survivor (a minor).
Cases like these, often referred to as ‘forced marriage’ or ‘marry-your-rapist law’, also contribute to gendered violence.
But even then, it points to a much bigger issue – the assumption that a family’s ‘honour’ is tied to the women in it and that an act of assault somehow threatens the family’s ‘status’. A ‘marriage’ like this endangers a woman’s personal and sexual autonomy and doesn’t result in any accountability for the perpetrator.
But they don’t get enough space in headlines because they don’t grab eyeballs.
Even in the minimal reportage it gets, the media rarely discusses the implications of a forced marriage or the fact that it isn’t legal.
Without critique and condemnation of these practices, a dangerous legal precedent continues to be set. And this critique can’t happen without public outrage and change and, like with all things, media plays a huge role in that awareness.
In reports about the Walkar case, for instance, many news channels questioned the fast track court’s proceedings and the delay in investigation. As citizens, we reserve the right to demand accountability from state authorities but this, too, can’t happen without questioning a legal system that makes it difficult for survivors and victims of violence to secure justice.
Even while deciding on the visuals that accompany a story, sensitivity is crucial. It is quite rare that explicit images of violence work in public interest or serve any function in the reportage of a crime. Rarely, the depiction or recreation might be help but a journalist needs to be able to make the distinction. A dramatised recreation can’t be a go-to just for TRP or just because a news is ‘viral’.
The handbook for journalists reporting on crimes against women, the United Nations Educational Scientific and Cultural Organisation, poses a few questions that a media professional could keep in mind to sidestep sensationalism:
“If the photo shown is explicit or shocking, is it in the public interest? In other words, does the shocking aspect serve the subject matter? Does it help the public to better understand or feel the situation?”
Who Do We Talk to?
The most basic rule of reporting cases of violence against women is to remain fair and sensitive. Violence, in all its forms, requires a nuanced approach.
For instance, while everyone faces the danger of sexual crimes, women from disenfranchised communities are at a higher risk. And ignoring that factor while reporting their stories goes against the responsibility a journalist has to give their viewers an accurate and holistic view.
Let’s look at the Hathras incident. Four suspects from an oppressor caste were accused of the rape of a 19-year-old in a village in Hathras. The victim’s Dalit identity was crucial to understanding the case and dissecting the investigation that followed. Ignoring the inherent power balance in a case like this is irresponsible and a disservice to the person whose story needs to be told.
Journalists must also ensure that they don’t endanger a survivor by making it easy for someone to identify them or their family. Their identity being exposed can put them in direct danger, especially in a world where women are subjected to stigma and shame if they report a crime.
When a journalist approaches a survivor or their family, their priority should always be the interviewee’s comfort – they should never coerce or force someone to repeat the details of a traumatic experience.
When Johanna E Foster and Sherizaan Minwalla conducted a research on Yazidi women’s perspective on journalistic practices while reporting on survivors of rape and human trafficking, they found that 85% of those interviews alleged ‘unethical reporting practices’.
While the women agreed that speaking to the press was important, there was significant concern about the disclosure of information about survivors and their family members.
Even while reporting on cases of violence against women, it is important to give a voice to experts and activists. It’s more common for news media to talk to family members of a survivor than to bring in professionals who can put these crimes in perspective and help the public identity how they can do better to avoid a rise in similar crimes.
Since January 2025 alone, multiple cases of violence against women have been reported – from sexual assault and torture to murder, and yet, with every passing year, we don’t see a significant decline in these numbers. “We need to do something,” people say on the news, in heated debates, and spaces online.
We have the same conversations on a loop, journalists recall brutal details of a crime, and the public is enraged – eventually they leave the news cycle.
We lament.
But the media needs to do better; report on violence against women better; see the crimes for what they are – a phenomenon that adversely affects us all.
And while we rage and we lament and we rightfully demand justice, there will come a time when we must reconcile with a simple fact – isolated justice without change is a short-term relief for a long-term predicament.