Denied by the binary

Padmashri Awardee Mata Manjamma Jogathi, a globally recognised artist, faces a dilemma that highlights deep-seated discrimination—not just based on gender, but on the very recognition of identity.

Renowned for her contributions to Indian folklore and as a prominent transgender woman, Manjamma’s achievements have been celebrated worldwide. She made history as the first transgender woman to hold the position of president of the Karnataka Janapada Academy and is celebrated for preserving and promoting the traditional art of Jogathi, a traditional folk form. However, today she confronts a predicament that raises urgent questions about cultural acceptance, legal recognition, and human rights. 

Manjamma was invited as the guest of honour by a prominent Kannada Sangha in Sharjah, UAE, for their Kannada Rajyotsava celebration in November. The event’s theme, ‘Celebrating Mother,’ resonates deeply as she is seen as a maternal figure in the community—both as an artist and a role model for the transgender community. When organisers attempted to process her visa, an unexpected obstacle emerged. Her passport, listing her gender as “X,” was rejected by UAE authorities. Like many countries with conservative stances on gender, the UAE does not recognise non-binary or third-gender categories. Consequently, Manjamma was denied entry solely because her gender identity does not align with the binary male-female classification.

This incident reflects a broader global issue of systemic discrimination faced by transgender individuals. Despite holding a valid Indian passport, Manjamma is barred from travel because her identity challenges rigid legal frameworks.

This raises several questions: Is it justifiable for an Indian citizen to be denied entry into another country because of their legal recognition beyond the male-female binary? In a world striving for inclusivity, shouldn’t there be recognition that gender is not always confined to traditional norms? Should the Indian government consider temporary passports with limited validity for citizens with non-binary gender markers?

While this could offer a practical solution, it also risks undermining the rights of individuals to fully express their gender identity authentically. If gender markers can be amended to conform with binary norms for convenience, does this force individuals like Manjamma to conform to a gender identity that is not their own? Would such measures infringe on their basic human right to self-identify?

These questions are not merely bureaucratic; they delve into the core of human rights—the rights of transgender individuals to live without fear of discrimination or erasure.

The irony of Manjamma’s case is striking. Invited to celebrate motherhood and revered for her nurturing qualities, she is denied entry because her identity as a transgender woman, marked as ‘x’ on her passport, clashes with UAE’s binary gender norms. Her gender identity is under scrutiny—not by the people who invited her, but by the State that controls access to the UAE. 

This contradiction highlights the cultural and legal divides that transgender individuals face worldwide. Manjamma’s struggle is not just personal; it reflects systemic marginalisation and the broader challenge of achieving recognition, equality, and dignity for all. 

In India, the Jogathi community is a part of the larger cultural fabric. Historically, Jogathis are born male but later take on female identities and roles. They are revered and treated as women within their communities, and their gender identity is not defined by a rigid binary. The acceptance of Jogathis as women, without the label of “transgender, is an example of India’s complex and rich understanding of gender, where cultural practices and respect for individual identity often transcend the constraints of Western gender norms. For many in the transgender community, the demand for recognition as women, rather than “trans women,” is an ongoing struggle. 

However, for Jogathis, the issue is nuanced: they do not seek to be labelled as transgender but rather as women who were born male but identified as female later. Manjamma’s situation, therefore, speaks to the erasure and marginalisation of Jogathis within both the broader transgender community and society at large.

The situation facing Manjamma is a stark reminder that the challenges faced by transgender individuals are not just about personal acceptance—they are about systemic issues of recognition, equality, and the right to live with dignity.

The denial of entry into the UAE, based on her gender identity, is more than a bureaucratic issue; it is a human rights concern. As India strives for greater inclusivity and recognition of diverse gender identities, it is crucial that the global community also moves toward a more accepting and understanding approach to gender diversity.

(The writer is a poet and publisher based in Bengaluru)