Introduction

It is estimated that India has over 3 million commercial sex workers. ¹ Approximately 2.9 million women or 1.1 per cent of the adult women in India are commercial sex workers. The rest of India’s sex worker population is comprised of male and transgender sex workers. Female, male, and transgender commercial sex workers in India often ply their trade within the confines of a designated red-light district, or they are “flying” sex workers without a fixed place of operation. A small segment also operates as contractual workers in establishments such as hotels, massage parlours and places providing escort services.

Notwithstanding the large population involved in the profession, commercial sex work in India is illegal and treated as a criminal act. Indian legislation on sex work criminalizes sex workers and their clients and pimps, as well as brothel owners, subjecting them to fines and imprisonment for three to five years. The Immoral Trafficking (Prevention) Act (ita) of India defines prostitution as “sexual exploitation or abuse of persons for commercial purposes or for consideration of money or in any other kind.” ² The ita also criminalizes living off of sex workers’ earnings, and as a result, a sex worker’s children and family members can be imprisoned for subsisting on his or her income.

Sex workers in India constitute a severely deprived segment of the population which lacks access to services and support from the health sector. Ascribing a criminal status to sex work often results in an increase in violence against Indian sex workers who have little recourse against such acts of aggression. ³ The criminalization of sex work also makes it possible for pimps and police to extort money from sex workers for protection from violence or imprisonment. ⁴ A conviction of the criminal or coercive nature of their trade often precipitates a legal and moral imperative to rescue or rehabilitate the sex workers. The option to rescue and rehabilitate “criminal” or “immoral” sex workers often provides law enforcement agencies, pimps, and brothel owners with more opportunities to carry out violence and extortion against them. Violence against sex workers, as a fallout of criminalization and rescue and rehabilitation propositions, is commonplace and recurrent in India, while the prosecution of perpetrators is rare. ⁵

In this chapter I present a historical analysis of the dominant discourses of the delegitimization of sex work in India, specifically in metropolitan Calcutta, and the stigmatization of sex workers as “fallen women” in need of rehabilitation, with the overall aim to obtain a better understanding of the structural position of the workers in contemporary India. I also examine the representation of sex workers in contemporary vernacular print media in Calcutta in order to achieve an understanding of public perceptions of their vocation. For this study I conducted interviews with thirty-seven commercial female sex workers in Sonagachi—the red-light district of Calcutta and one of the largest red-light areas in South Asia—so I could assess their opinions concerning the status of commercial sex work, delegitimization, and stigmatization.

The Discourse of the Delegitimization of Sex Work

The discourse of the delegitimization of sex work in India, as prevalent today, was not in force in ancient India. A thousand years ago, sex workers were part of the mainstream populace in India. Their profession was considered to be a legitimate one and sex workers possessed labour rights. This stands in remarkable contrast to present-day India where sex work is conflated with trafficking and is a criminal offence subject to prosecution. This section discusses the transformation of sex work from a legitimate vocation to a criminal activity.

Ancient Indian works of literature such as Mrichhakatika, Kathasaritasagara and Kalavilasa mentioned sex workers as a professional part of mainstream society worthy of and deserving love and respect. ⁶ There were about fifty synonyms for sex workers in Sanskrit and Pali literature composed between a few centuries b.c. and the twelfth century a.d. ⁷ Some of the names conveyed reverence, such as brajayitri (the woman who provides happiness), nagarashovini (the woman who is the grace of the whole town), and janapadakalyani (the woman who takes care of the entire settlement). ⁸ The Sanskrit texts Arthashastra and Kamasutra, and the Pali texts Majhjhimnikaya and Sanjuttanikaya noted the practice of state sector employment and state-funded education for sex workers in ancient India. Sex workers paid income taxes and were given pensions on retirement. ⁹

In the nineteenth century, India became a British colony. At the time, sex workers were still part of mainstream society and maintained the rights of legitimacy conferred upon them by ancient Hindu India. The rights of sex workers were initially recognized by the ruling colonial courts. Up until 1850, the courts in Calcutta issued summons against clients who didn’t pay sex workers: “Though reformation in Europe brought in stricter control of brothels, even their closure, some of the early colonial administrators understood that the life of a professional courtesan in India was not the same as that of a sex worker in England; nor were sex workers here looked down upon by all other sections of society.” ¹⁰

The Crimean War precipitated significant changes in the fortunes of sex workers in India. In the aftermath of the Crimean War, between 1853 and 1856 the number of British soldiers suffering from venereal diseases increased significantly. ¹¹ Subsequently, in 1864 the British Government passed the Contagious Diseases Act, which was enforced in different parts of the empire. The Contagious Diseases Act xiv of 1868 was implemented in India in 1869. ¹² The act brought about the compulsory registration and medical examination of Indian sex workers, especially those located in regimental towns and whose clientele included British soldiers. The Contagious Diseases Act marked the designation of Indian sex workers as the colonial subjects of British rule. ¹³

In cases of non-registration or absenteeism from medical examinations on the part of a sex worker, a warrant for arrest was issued for her. The family members of the non-compliant sex workers also faced punitive measures and harassment by British law enforcement agencies. Bakshi notes that “through a relentless game of chase and run with the colonial police, the Indian sex worker, once accepted and revered, then scorned yet tolerated, was finally branded as a criminal running away from a ‘beneficial’ law.” ¹⁴

Bhandari notes that the British rulers passed the Act not to prevent vice amongst its own soldiers, but rather to “denigrate the body of the prostitute as a receptacle of all that was filthy and impure. Under this Act and the Cantonment rules, the British and other European soldiers in India were not only permitted but promoted to hold native young and good-looking girls as prostitutes for their carnal pleasure. These very ‘white clients’ of the native prostitutes, who spread venereal diseases not only amongst themselves but upon these unfortunate women, would themselves remain untouched and their integrity and respectability untarnished. It would be the Indian girls and women (mostly of poor families) who would be first trapped into a life of sin because the society and colonial government not only disallowed them any opportunity to earn an independent income but encouraged a system which preyed upon their helplessness and lack of better options.” ¹⁵

Phillipa Levine notes that British soldiers stationed in colonial India had a limited number of native sex workers to meet their sexual needs. A regiment of three hundred soldiers stationed at Bengal would have around twelve sex workers at their service, around 4% of the client population. These sex workers could offer sexual service to the British soldiers only. They were registered and kept secluded in smaller dwellings within the cantonment area. Subjected to weekly physical examinations at cantonment prison hospitals to check for venereal diseases, these women would be periodically transferred with the regiments to the latter’s destination. The disparity in the number of soldiers and sex workers meant that the latter had to offer sexual services to a sizeable population of soldiers daily. If weekly physical check-ups showed the presence of a venereal disease, the woman’s registration was cancelled, she was expelled, and a “newer and healthier” woman was employed in her place. ¹⁶

The native sex workers were tainted with the conflicting colours of criminality and victimhood. Bhandari quotes a British Medical officer posted in Calcutta on sex workers in the city as saying, “Everything about them bears the total absence of religious, moral or social feeling. Here, they swarm not only the by-lanes and back-slums of Calcutta, but also its principal thorough-fares, polluting the atmosphere of our neighbourhood and scandalising the morals of the population.” The European missionary groups that were active in India in the nineteenth century strongly condemned the swelling ranks of sex workers in regimental towns and supported the Act. However, missionary discourses on the Act acquired a distinctive character because they characterized sex workers not as criminals but as victims of moral depravity and socio-economic oppression. ¹⁷ Such an emphasis on the victimhood of sex workers prompted missionaries to preach for the salvation and rehabilitation of sex workers. ¹⁸

In colonial India sex work among the colonized population offered the scope of a discourse for moral hierarchies of race, nation and gender. As Levine notes, the ample presence of the sex trade among the native populations in India reinforced the British colonial rulers’ perception of moral superiority and convinced the latter of the need for setting boundaries of rule. ¹⁹ Bhandari cites Levine and concludes “The east’s problem was its failure to move beyond the primitivism of unchained nature, to contain sex within boundaries that made it productive and purposeful rather than merely sensual and pleasurable. Prostitution’s emphasis on pleasure rather than procreation drove home this divide between the Christian and the heathen, the former claiming sex as a procreative and biblically ordained duty, the latter merely wallowing in its sensuality.” ²⁰

There was a significant rise in the number of sex workers in Calcutta in the nineteenth century. Banerjee attributes it to several factors. ²¹ There was an increasing migration of single indigenous men to Calcutta in search of jobs. These men who left their families back in villages and yearned for female company boosted up sex trade in the city. An exponential number of Hindu widows formed the ranks of sex workers in Calcutta. Deserted by their families and left with no “respectable” means of earning an income, commercial sex work often offered these women a means of subsistence. Poorer working class women also used sex work to supplement their meagre earnings through sex work irrespective of marital status. “In 1853, Calcutta with a population of about 400,000 people, supported 12,419 prostitutes. Of these more than 10,000 were Hindus, including several daughters of kulin ²² Brahmins. More than a decade later, in 1867, although the city’s total population had come down to some extent, the number of prostitutes rose to more than 30,000. We are told that it was mostly women of the weaver, barber, washermen, milkmen, fishermen and other lower castes who resorted to this profession.” ²³

Banerjee provides a layout of the differentiation of sex workers in Calcutta into various categories created by the British colonialists. This distinction—based on the latter’s perception of caste and class hierarchies, and religious differences among the sex workers in the city—provides a limited profile of the sex workers operating in the city. The first two categories consisted of Brahmin sex workers and other higher caste sex workers. The latter were not Brahmins but hailed from higher levels of the caste hierarchies. Both these categories of sex workers had clients who hailed from their own or superior castes. These clients were mostly well-off and maintained the women financially, consequently these women could maintain their own independent establishments. The third were sex workers who could not maintain their own establishments and used rented properties. They entertained clients of all castes and their clientele generally had limited financial means. The fourth category was the dancing women who were of Hindu and Muslim religious affiliation and entertained clients of any caste, class and religion. The fifth category consisted of Muslim sex workers. The sixth category consisted of women who were Christian and of European origin. The last category formed a small portion of sex workers operating in nineteenth century Calcutta. ²⁴

Bhandari provides a breakdown of the sex workers operating in Calcutta in the middle of the nineteenth century. “After the 1868 Contagious Diseases Act, under the category of ‘Registered Prostitutes’, there were in 1872, 6,871 such prostitutes of whom 5,804 were Hindus, 930 Muslims and the remaining small minority comprised a tremendous heterogeneity belonging to Irish, Polish, Russian, Hungarian, Italian, French and Spanish women”. ²⁵

The sex workers of Calcutta submitted petitions against the Contagious Diseases Act and held public demonstrations in protest. In 1869, the police arrested 1,527 sex workers in Calcutta and 499 in the city’s suburbs for flouting the Act and organizing protests. ²⁶ In 1869, there were estimated to be 30,000 female sex workers in Calcutta and most of them were not registered in accordance with the Act. The Act was suspended in 1883 and finally repealed in 1888. ²⁷ However, the sex workers of Calcutta remained in a paradoxical situation: “As colonial rule consolidated itself in our country, our sex workers fearful of losing their only source of income, by being officially deregistered, clung to the alien identities of either a criminal or a victim imposed upon them through the dominant colonial and missionary discourses.” ²⁸

The Calcutta Suppression of the Immoral Traffic Act was passed in 1923 with the support of the League of Nations Committee on Trafficking in Women and Children. The Act was intended to tackle the issue of trafficking and the sale and purchase of women shipped from Europe to the eastern colonies. The Act criminalized prostitution and conflated trafficking with sex work. As Bakshi has observed, the chief concern of the ruling elites in India was to prevent women from their own racial groups from being channelled into sex work. Incidences of raids on brothels with the aim of “rescuing” sex workers who were not deemed to be “common prostitutes” became more frequent after the passage of this Act. ²⁹

In August of 1947, India became independent from British rule. In independent, postcolonial India, the Immoral Trafficking Prevention Act was passed in 1956, and it reiterated the discourses of the Act of 1923 and criminalized sex work and connected the latter with trafficking. The colonial relationships between race, sexuality, and social control in the European colonies in the nineteenth century appeared to have an impact on concerns about sex work and its regulation. Walkowitz has argued that concerns about “white slavery” in the nineteenth century precipitated a moral panic about the potential degradation of female sexuality through sex work. ³⁰ This was defined “in relation to fears of young white women being abducted into prostitution.” ³¹

Theoretical and dialectic tensions in the debates on the status of sex work and sex workers in the twenty-first century appear to have antecedents in such “early moral panics, fears of ‘white slavery’ and in the nineteenth-century racialization of sexuality within the context of the imperial project itself, which came to rely on sexuality as an important frame for the articulation of colonial power.” ³² These tensions may have resonances in the history of postcolonial states’ regulation of women engaged in sex work. An understanding of colonial history and its background can be utilized to analyse sex workers’ status, regulations on the sex trade, and the hierarchical process of marginalization among commercial female sex workers in India.

In present-day India, sex work is illegal and a criminal activity. The rescue and rehabilitation of sex workers is a matter of national policy. Indian legislation frames sex work as a direct consequence of trafficking, deception, and coercion, and it regards sex workers as being in a state of sexual servitude. I have examined historical data about sex workers around Calcutta to obtain an understanding of the notions of coercion and deception in their choice of profession. Amritabazar Patrika, a national Indian English daily no longer in circulation, published a survey of 200 sex workers in Calcutta documenting the reasons behind their choice of profession on 20 February 1868. ³³

The survey showed that 64.3 per cent of the women voluntarily opted for the profession. While 26.2 per cent of the surveyed women were daughters of sex workers and their choice of profession was passed down, 9.5 per cent of them were deceived or sold into sex work against their will. Of the 64.3 per cent who voluntarily opted for sex work, 78 per cent were widows. Upon the deaths of their spouses they had no means of economic support or sexual fulfilment, as remarriage for women was a taboo in Indian society in the past. These women noted economic exigencies and sexual deprivation to be a motivating factor behind taking part in sex work. The survey was one of a kind and cannot be said to be representative of the actions and aspirations of all the sex workers of nineteenth century Calcutta. However, it provides a snapshot of the factors that motivated women to opt for sex work during that period.

I also looked into the representation of sex workers in contemporary vernacular print media in Calcutta in order to obtain an understanding of public perceptions of their vocation. I examined articles, editorials, and letters to the editor about the red-light district of Calcutta and its residents in Bengali newspapers; the period I examined was from 1997 to 2009. I found a total of twenty-eight articles and editorials and forty-seven letters to the editor dealing with the issue.

Among the twenty-eight articles and editorials, seventeen highlighted the drawbacks of commercial sex work and eleven emphasized the need to eradicate sex work altogether. Sex work was noted in thirteen articles/editorials to be a violation of human rights and in eight articles/editorials it was presented as a perpetuation of slavery-like practices. Eleven articles and editorials stressed the importance of improving the lot of sex workers as they were claimed to be a marginalized, oppressed, and impoverished community. Five of the articles and editorials stated that there is a need to legalize sex work to ameliorate the condition of sex workers in India and stem the spread of venereal infections.

Among these articles was one penned by the famous Bengali author and feminist critic Bani Basu. She wrote an op-ed piece on the sex trade in the largest circulating Bengali daily, Anandabazar Patrika, on 1 April 2001. She argued that sex work violates human dignity, and she made the claim that sex workers urgently need to be rehabilitated and trained for alternative professions. Basu also questioned the demands of sex workers for the legalization of sex work, opining that such insistence on the part of sex workers stemmed from their direct brainwashing by the agents of patriarchy. She equated the legalization of sex work with the legitimization of human sexual servitude and a direct violation of human rights. She referred to sex workers in the article as jounodashi (sex slaves). She expressed concern that condoning sex work could result in the prevalence of the sex trade among the mainstream middle-class populace.

The letters to the editor were published as responses to news articles on the activities of sex workers in Sonagachi who are unionized and striving for their profession to be granted legal status. Among a total of forty-seven letters to the editor, thirty-eight were written by the general public and nine by sex workers from Sonagachi as responses to previous letters published on the subject. Twenty-nine of the letters had a negative view of sex work and sex workers. In four of the letters sex work was considered to be a direct outcome of trafficking and coercion. Eleven letter-writers considered sex workers to be in a state of servitude and in grave need of rescue and rehabilitation. Five of the letters identified sex workers as vectors of hiv/aids and hosts of other infectious diseases. Seven letter-writers argued that sex work is a sin and its legalization would signify the state sanctioning of moral transgression. Eight letter-writers also noted that if sex work was legalized, common middle-class housewives and girls would be encouraged to start offering sex for money. This would result, according to the letter-writers, in an unravelling of the traditional family structure of Indian society.

The articles, editorials and letters to the editors published in Bengali newspapers present a negative perception of sex work in general among the public. Sex work was depicted as an immoral trade that threatens the family values of middle class Indians. The legalization of sex work was not supported in most of the letters, as it was claimed that such legitimization would entail the sanctioning of a criminal offence and had the potential to lure women from the domestic sphere into the realm of moral transgression. This historical analysis of the process of the delegitimization of sex work in India, and cursory look at the Bengali print media publications, offer a means of assessing the issues underlying the structural inequalities suffered by groups such as commercial female sex workers. Such an analysis is relevant for understanding the historical marginalization of, and attribution of “victimhood” status to, sex workers in an erstwhile colonized nation like India.

It seems that the articulation of sex work frequently invokes a connection between sex work and trafficking, the proposed delegitimization of sex work, and rescue and rehabilitation propositions for sex workers, both in India and globally. The distinction between sex work and trafficking is not a well-defined one, and the conflation of trafficking and sex work can problematize health and social activism among sex workers, and jeopardize intervention projects. The equation of trafficking with sex work has been promoted vigorously by anti-trafficking organizations active in the us and other areas of the world. The common usage of the term “prostitution” for sex work is in itself controversial, as people associated with the profession tend to refer to themselves as sex workers rather than prostitutes. The latter term is widely considered to be stigma-inducing and derogatory: “The core debate is that for many stakeholders, the category of sex workers includes consenting adults who sell sex of their own volition, who are not trafficking victims, and who have called for recognition of their rights as workers.” ³⁴

However, the exercise of volition on behalf of sex workers in carrying out their profession is not widely acknowledged in India or globally, and the articulation of sex workers as passive victims of trafficking, abuse, and slavery-like practices is very common. In India, anti-trafficking measures often evolve into combating sex work through rescue and rehabilitation propositions, but such rescue and rehabilitation projects for sex workers can be morally problematic. As Cohen noted in a report published by the Guttmacher Institute, a policy research organization working on human sexual and reproductive health, ³⁵ the moral imperative to rescue women from brothels is compelling when young girls are involved or there is clear evidence of duress, but “rescuing” adult women from brothels against their will can mean an end to their health care and economic survival. In countries and situations in which basic survival is a daily struggle, the distinction between free agency and oppression may be more a grey area than a bright line.

In this regard I sought the opinions of sex workers themselves concerning the nature of the trade. I conducted interviews with thirty-seven commercial female sex workers in Sonagachi. With a population of more than 50,000 commercial sex workers, Sonagachi is one of the largest red-light districts in the region. The sex workers of Sonagachi are unionized and carry out peer outreach-based campaigns to increase condom usage compliance and reduce rates of hiv and venereal diseases among their colleagues. The sex workers’ union is called the Durbar Mahila Samanway Committee (dmsc) and it has offices in the heart of Sonagachi itself.

I conducted structured and semi-structured interviews with my subjects at the dmsc offices and at their places of work. My data collection was carried out between 6 December 2010 and 12 January 2011. My project sources included research papers, internal project reports, unpublished manuscripts provided by dmsc members, and best practice synopses that have been published by dmsc. In Sonagachi, there are concentrated pockets of sex work zones amid regular neighbourhoods. At the entrance of each neighbourhood, the sex workers, who wear colourful garb and make-up, solicit for clients. This practice is colloquially referred to as “standing at the gates” and signifies the presence of sex work sites within the neighbourhood.

It needs to be noted that all of the interviewees were active members of the dmsc and were also peer outreach workers in the hiv/sti intervention project conducted by the union. Most of the interviewees were heavily involved in the daily operations of the dmsc and various other projects. The subjects I interviewed cannot be said to be representative of all the sex workers plying their trade within the borders of the red-light district of Calcutta. However, their voices offer glimpses of the opinions of sex workers which traditionally go unheard and unrecognized in the public sphere.

Prior permission was obtained from the dmsc central governing committee before the commencement of my research and interviews. This permission was obtained by sending an application letter drafted in Bengali and addressed to the Central Management Committee of the dmsc which is headed by Bharati Dey, its president. Institutional Review Board (irb) research approval was also received (Protocol # 13456). The narratives of the sex workers as gathered from the interviews will be discussed in the following sections.

Disarticulating Trafficking and Sex Work and Reasons for Entering Sex Work in Sonagachi

All of the thirteen interviewees in Sonagachi emphasized the distinction between trafficking and sex work. Eight of the interviewees noted that there is a conflation of sex work and trafficking in general discourses about sex work. Three of the interviewees also pointed out that sex work is perceived as being the same as trafficking and hence considered a punishable criminal offence by the media and the intelligentsia in India. Sapna excitedly noted, “We are considered to be sex slaves and sold or trafficked into this profession by the media, by all the important people and by the entire society. Why doesn’t anybody ask us?”

When questioned whether women are coerced or trafficked into the profession, thirty-six of the thirty-seven interviewees noted that they entered the profession of their own accord and had not been trafficked or sold or coerced into sex work. One of the interviewees, however, stated that she was introduced to sex work against her will by a close family member. She noted that after initial abuse she managed to break ties with an exploitative brothel owner and worked independently by renting rooms in the red-light area. She has continued in the profession since, as she said, it provides her with a steady source of income. She added that her forced introduction into the profession had occurred almost forty years ago, and the current mechanism of self-regulatory boards that the dmsc has installed prevents cases like hers today.

The reason that the Sonagachi women engage in sex work appeared to be primarily economic. Nineteen of the interviewees, 54.2 per cent of the sample size, mentioned financial exigencies as a reason for entering the profession. Twelve of the interviewees noted that they could afford a comfortable standard of living through sex work. Nine of the interviewees observed that they had been subjected to violence by a spouse or family member prior to entering sex work. Sapna said, “My ex-husband beat me up to the point of breaking my limbs. I had no support. The red-light area was my refuge for it gave me the income to survive and escape my partner.”

Thirteen of the interviewees reported sexual assaults in prior professions, which included domestic help, construction work, brick kiln labour, and secretarial jobs. Krishna, who had previously worked at a secretarial job, recalled how she had been sexually harassed by her employer. She noted, “I was compelled to offer sexual favours to my boss. Yet my salary was a pittance. I was finding it really hard to make ends meet. Well, then I decided I might as well get paid for sex.”

Interviewees also noted the existence of mechanisms of sexual harassment in the construction and menial labour industries in India. “To get a job and maintain it in bricklaying, masonry, and construction, you have to sleep with the rajmistri, ³⁶ his assistant, and respective subordinates. You need to keep them happy and also do back-breaking physical work to earn your meagre salary”, noted Purnima. Her views echoed those of Krishna: “You see, after being exploited by a string of supervisors one generally decides to get paid for sex.” Sapna recounts being raped by her employer while working as a domestic helper. “No more free and forced sex”, she quipped.

A survey was conducted by Sanlap, a nongovernmental organization, with 580 sex workers from Sonagachi about the reasons why sex workers join the profession. Table 20.1 shows the results of the survey.

View Table

In addition to the reasons mentioned by the interviewees, this survey also showed that harassment by in-law families concerning dowry issues and being cheated by lovers were motivating factors for joining the profession. Joining sex work as a family profession and following in the footsteps of a mother was an additional reason for entering the trade. A total of 1.2 per cent of the interviewees were noted to be sold into sex work and 1.5 per cent appeared to have been ensnared by false promises. The total percentage of women supposedly coerced or misled into this profession did not appear to be more than 2.7 per cent according to the survey. The results of the survey are consistent with the testimonies of my interviewees, all but one of whom noted her entry into the profession was voluntary. Poverty and an urgent need to provide for their families appear to be the most important motivating factors for joining the profession.

The Rescue and Rehabilitation of Sex Workers

My interviews with the sex workers of Sonagachi showed that propositions of rescue and rehabilitation were not considered to be feasible options. I found that the interviewees considered the rehabilitation approach to be impracticable for several reasons. One of the points raised against the rescue and rehabilitation option was that such a proposition violated the rights of the sex workers as a legitimate labour group.

Another reason for repudiating the rescue/rehabilitation proposition was economic. It was noted by sixteen interviewees that rehabilitation was not feasible for financial reasons, as the income generated by sex work was often more than they could make from proposed alternate professions. The women noted that sex workers were mostly illiterate and lacked educational skills that would enable them to be placed in anything other than minimum-wage jobs. The alternative professions proposed to sex workers by government agencies were generally domestic help jobs and menial labour.

Another reason for dismissing the rehabilitation proposition was the prospect of sexual violation and exploitation in the process of rehabilitation itself. Eleven of the sex workers noted that such rehabilitation projects had failed previously because rehabilitated sex workers were often sexually harassed by the officials engaged in the process.

Conclusion

A historical analysis of the evolution of sex work in India shows a remarkable shift in the status of the trade, from a mainstream and legitimate one recognized as a labour right, to an illegal and criminal vocation subject to prosecution. The colonization of India and the colonial relationships between race, sexuality, and social control aggravated the process of the delegitimization of sex work and tightened its regulation in urban centres, including Calcutta. A look at the history of sex work in Calcutta and the contemporary representation of sex work in the vernacular media, offers an opportunity for assessing the issues of structural inequalities suffered by groups like commercial female sex workers. In India and around the world, the underlying equation of trafficking and sex work is persistent and is utilized to delegitimize the latter profession. The delegitimization and criminalization of sex work often threatens the health and safety of sex workers as they are then forced to ply their trade secretly and become victims of sexual assault and violence. Compliance with safe sex practices declines significantly and there is a consequent increase in the spread of hiv and venereal diseases in these cases. The rescue and rehabilitation of sex workers generally fails because alternative vocations to sex work are often not viable options.

My interviews with the commercial female sex workers in the red-light district of Calcutta in Sonagachi present a striking picture. A state of “servitude”, of women compelled into their professions and incarcerated in the red-light zone as it has been portrayed by legislators, policy makers, and feminist scholars, was not discernible. Almost all of the sex workers I interviewed voluntarily entered the profession; rather, economic exigencies were noted to be the primary reason for entering sex work. Trafficking, however, was noted to be a present and persistent problem by the interviewees. But they also noted it to be a process aided by desperately poor individuals striving to get into a vocation like sex work to support their family members.

While I do not offer the conclusion that sex workers are not trafficked or coerced into their profession, my work shows that not all sex workers are victims of trafficking and sexual servitude. In such a case, the application of legislation that uniformly treats them as victims of trafficking and sexual slavery might well be impractical. The interviews I carried out with the Sonagachi women indicated that they chose this profession due to financial duress. Yet the interviewees asked that their choice of livelihood be respected and not subjected to moralistic evaluations. They demand legalization and the decriminalization of their vocation as well as the granting of labour rights guided by international labour regulations.