Wives who defend

The Good Wife, a US television show that ran for seven seasons before ending in 2016, began with its protagonist Alicia Florrick standing by her state attorney husband when he gets hit with a sex and corruption scandal. He holds a press conference and Alicia stands next to him — pale, hollow-eyed, expressionless— seemingly in support of his glib rite of public contrition.

That opening scene was deceptive. Alicia goes on to live separately with her children, re-enters the legal career that she had given up to be a 24x7 wife and mother, has affairs of her own, and in the course of the show (which I binge-watched on Netflix), grows into a tough, determined and powerful woman who is not averse to making the odd moral compromise in the pursuit of power.

At times she even turns up by the side of her estranged husband to lend wifely support to his political aspirations; she utters reassuring banalities about their marriage for the benefit of voters. In other words, she cynically gets into the act of the loyal wife if the occasion so demands. But that is not her whole story. What makes her story compelling is her progression and rise — the humiliated wife who achieves control and success and comes to be defined only by her own self.

Unfortunately, reality is rarely as inspiring as fiction can be. In the real world, the spectacle of a wife sticking up for a husband who faces allegations of sexual misconduct invariably evokes scorn. In the absence of any redeeming story of her personal struggle and evolution, our outrage against the woman is absolute: How can she defend her douchebag husband, we exclaim. Surely she knew all along? How then can she deny his predatory behaviour? And there, didn’t she just victim-shame the women who accused him?

In the last one month, as the #MeToo movement singed multiple stalwarts in India’s media, arts, entertainment and other industries, quite a few wives have come out in support of husbands who have been outed as perpetrators of sexual assault. These women have used social media to dismiss unsubstantiated accusations or issued formal statements denying them. In response, they’ve been fiercely pilloried and painted as disingenuous, anti-women, and all but complicit in their husbands’ alleged crimes.

Is that fair?

Hillary Clinton entered the stand-by-your-man hall of fame in 1992 when husband Bill was running for US President (Photo: Reuters)

A wife rallying to the defence of an adulterous, sex pest husband is, of course, a leitmotif of our times. Hillary Clinton entered the stand-by-your-man hall of fame in 1992 when husband Bill was running for US President and she stoutly denied reports of an affair between him and a woman called Gennifer Flowers. Before the 2016 presidential elections, Melania Trump defended Donald Trump’s fiendish boast on the Access Hollywood tapes that he was in the habit of grabbing women if he fancied them. And last September, US Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, battling allegations of sexual assault by two women, got a certificate from his wife Ashley who insisted, “he’s kind, he’s good”.  Kavanaugh has since been confirmed as a lifelong Supreme Court judge.

These are just a few of the more famous examples. Truth is, for every woman who kicks out or dumps a husband who has been exposed as a sexual predator, there are probably hundreds who stick around — and try to validate the decision by denying the whole sordid business.

To the extent that they do it to safeguard their common interest and status as a power couple, the denial is odious. But let’s not forget that the wife is also a victim here. That she has been wronged, her faith betrayed, her illusions about her husband, if she had any, shattered. Yes, she chooses to stay and root for him, but that doesn’t mean her marriage hasn’t run aground. It’s not hard to imagine the seam of pain, of desperation, in her protestations of his innocence and her questioning of his accusers.

We are right to demand that the wife should respect what these other women have to say. But we are wrong to demonise her if she doesn’t — for doing so probably makes the bottom fall out of her chosen universe. If we aspire to a sisterhood, empathy must extend to all.

Shuma Raha is a journalist and author based in Delhi; @ShumaRaha