Opinion The problem with universal child rights: Cultural differences abound in how we raise children
'Mrs Chatterjee vs Norway' underlines the distance between the rigidity of child-rearing practices in the wealthy West and the economic constraints so common in the developing world
The recently released film, Mrs Chatterjee vs Norway reminds us that child-rearing is deeply rooted in culture. (File) 
Who is a child? “In whose eyes?” is the correct answer, according to a historian of childhood. The recently released film, Mrs Chatterjee vs Norway reminds us that child-rearing is deeply rooted in culture. For a concept as universal as childhood, one must use the plural form, childhoods. Each culture has its norms and practices for raising children. What is normal in one culture may be vehemently disapproved of in another country. And the vehemence may be extreme. A country like Norway, known for its concern for conflict resolution, presents a shockingly harsh face to a young immigrant family from Bengal in this film.
The fact that children’s rights are now recognised under a UN convention does not mean that the role and importance of cultural differences can be ignored. The UN convention does not aim to impose a global format on child-rearing or educational practices. All it intends to achieve is a protective cover for children from the consequences of economic hardship, entrenched inequalities, and abuse of different kinds. A uniform code for parents to follow would be completely against the spirit of the international consensus on child rights.
That is what the film portrays as Norway’s attempt in the case of the Bengali couple’s children.
Ashima Chibber’s film comes at a time of heightened parental worries across the world. Its story derives from a widely reported chain of incidents that started in 2011 and stayed in the news for several years. A film based on something so recent could hardly afford to deviate from known facts. Chibber’s film retains the reported facts and scaffolds them with a completely credible background portrait of social reality. Watching it, we learn how vulnerable children are in today’s globalised world, and how their fate intersects with the social reality of women and marriage.
Watching it is an emotionally churning experience. Sympathy, concern, anxiety, anger, depression — you go through the full range of such feelings and find no relief till the very end. You leave the hall hyper-aware of your careful steps on the exit staircase. No horror movie could have made the viewer feel so weak, so shaken. No matter if you are a man or woman, you identify with Rani Mukherjee who has played the role of Sagarika Bhattacharya (now Chakraborti).
Reviewers who say that Mukherjee’s acting is over the top in certain scenes don’t see the role she was playing in terms of its basis in real life. It represents a young woman’s struggle against a prejudiced and arrogant bureaucracy. As the story unfolds you realize that she was living in a society where ordinary life has been conquered by bureaucratic norms. When Rani Mukherjee screams, she expresses the extreme helplessness of a human being inescapably surrounded. Her screams and attempts to seek understanding convince her oppressors further that she is mad. The term they use in their legal response to her fight is “unstable mind”. There is nothing she can do to tell them that she is just a mother.
On top of every other emotion, you face disbelief. How can this happen anywhere? And how can it happen in Norway? One’s impression of Norway comes in the way. Its role as a peace broker, its professed commitment to feminism, and its progressive system of education form the highly positive stereotype of Norway. It is hard to reconcile these wonderful attributes with what you see on the screen. From the first moment onwards, the film gives you no break.
Has Norway no better way to separate children from parents whose lifestyle and practices it does not approve of? A terrible, clumsy kidnapping of two little children in the first scene sets the tone for the rest of the film. Its portrayal of other representatives of authority accentuates the tone, without posing a problem of credibility. The lawyers who defend the state, the judges, and even the teacher who gives testimony, all show a horrible, mistaken consensus. They also show a remarkable lack of willingness to rethink, let alone to give the benefit of doubt to the victim.
How children are raised in different cultures was once a subject of great interest in social anthropology and educational theory. Several studies carried out during the post-war decades became classics. I am quite sure the University of Oslo has senior academics who are familiar with the scholarly literature on the diversity of childrearing practices. At the very least, they would have told the government that feeding children with your hands can’t be considered objectionable.
Perhaps someone would have asked the child welfare agency in Norway to read Jean Liedloff’s classic, The Continuum Concept, which argues in favour of little children sleeping with their mothers. Had the government of Norway sought academic advice, the ignominy of being seen as an obdurate system of power would have been averted. Ironically, there was one representative of the welfare agency whose testimony Mrs Chatterjee’s lawyer wanted the court to hear. It was not allowed, on the ground that she had left the agency. The teacher who testified against Mrs Chatterjee says that she often submitted school projects for her son late. He was a pre-primary student.
The Norwegian ambassador in India has criticised the film and his anguish can be understood. The news coverage of the original story had dented Norway’s image as a liberal and progressive country. The film deepens the dent, and so does the ambassador’s response. Had he expressed some regret over the terrible ordeal of Mrs Chatterjee, one might have agreed to see the whole episode as a sadly botched case. As things stand now, I am struck by the powerlessness of the grandiose UN convention on child rights. If it can’t prevent cultural prejudice from harming children in a wealthy, highly educated, apparently developed country like Norway, what good can it do anywhere? Between the rigidity of childrearing practices in the wealthy West and the economic constraints so common in the developing world, children and their parents will continue to face difficult challenges.
The writer is Honorary Professor of Education at Panjab University and former Director, NCERT
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