Half the sky is an optimistic estimate in most of India. In places like West Bengal, there might just be, officially, 933 women to 1,000 men. But the most politically powerful of those men, undoubtedly all in the Left Front, are eloquent in their championing of the feminine cause in Parliament, ever demanding one-third representation of women there. More, the Left Front has exhibited itself as an exemplar by ensuring one-third reservation of seats for women in the panchayats. Whether that has changed the doggedly patriarchal thrust of village governance is a different question. Change is slow, and the occasional spectacle of the husbands of elected women officials floating in and out of their wives’ offices taking decisions on their behalf need not cause either disappointment or scepticism.

Somehow, the Left in West Bengal loses its exemplary zeal in the women’s cause when it is time for nominations for the Lok Sabha elections. There are this time only two women candidates among the 42 seats the Left is contesting. It may all be a question of the comfort level. Reserving seats for women within the confines of local government is like permitting women in the house to take a walk in the front-yard, instead of just washing utensils in the backyard. That can be accomplished under the benignly watchful eye of the family patriarch; all in the family, so to speak. The Lok Sabha elections are a different matter. Pragmatism evidently plays a big part; the ‘winnability’ factor is cited by all politicians, right Left, and centre. Women do not get votes: for example, four out of 34 women contestants won in Bengal last time; three out of 21 in Andhra Pradesh; seven out of 61 in Uttar Pradesh and three out of 30 in Madhya Pradesh. Politicians have a point.

So even if citizens in West Bengal dare to suspect that the Left Front would be deeply uncomfortable giving too many women nominees the chance to win, they would also be unable to deny the presence of a vicious cycle. Women — with certain remarkable exceptions — tend to lose because people do not vote for them. Without a certain political pedigree or connection, or a certain ruthless gall, that make up the exceptions, women are considered unfit for politics. So even the Trinamul Congress, with its sputtering female lead, has five women candidates for 27 seats. That is better than the Left Front — even the Congress and the Bharatiya Janata Party have three women each — but just not good enough. The vicious cycle is created by the continuing history of oppression and ignorance of women and unchanging perceptions about their inferiority. Reservations at lower levels of governance and the refusal to give them space higher up masquerade as pragmatism. Politicians are less frank about the pragmatism of never ensuring women’s education and healthcare, or their social and domestic equality. That is one part of politics that leaders in West Bengal would rather not discuss.