Chelsea Langston Bombino, January 6, 2017

Recently, traditional religious practices regarding women and menstruation have gained international attention because of two tragic events only months apart. Two different women have died in slightly over a month while sleeping outside in menstrual huts as part of the practice of chaupadi. According to a 2011 United Nations report, chaupadi is a centuries-old, Hindu-derived religious practice in Nepal. Practiced primarily in the Far and Western Regions of Nepal, chaupadi asserts that “women are considered ‘impure’ during their menstruation cycle, and are subsequently separated from others in many spheres of normal, daily life.”

The UN report on chaupadi explains that strong religious beliefs underlie chaupadi, which necessitates that menstruating women do not enter dwellings or temples, touch others, or participate in religious or community activities. Women are also traditionally prohibited from drinking milk or eating milk products during menstruation, according to the UN report. The report also cites the physical health risks to women practicing chaupadi by sleeping in a menstrual hut. Women have died from smoke inhalation, lack of proper medical care, snake bites, and exposure in these conditions. Women have also been sexually abused while left alone and isolated from their families in chaupadi sheds. Girls and women can also experience educational interruptions and nutritional deficits as a result of practicing chaupadi.

According to the UN report, while many women still follow all the traditional dictates of chaupadi, there have started to be variations and re-adaptions of traditional practices. For example, a small percentage of women practicing chaupadi now sleep in a separate room in the home, called a ‘baitkak,’ rather than outside in a hut. Additionally, some women do not adhere to prohibitions against milk products and, positively, “the number of girls attending school during menstruation has significantly increased.”

Although the Nepal Supreme Court made the practice of chaupadi illegal in 2005, it is still widespread in the Far Western Region. The UN report also calls out how the religious practice of chaupadi conflicts with international human rights norms. First, the report states: “The practice of chaupadi challenges fundamental human rights in that it promotes discrimination and increases vulnerability.” It then quotes the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) and the Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) to emphasize how chaupadi is in conflict with modern human rights norms against discrimination or difference in treatment of any kind between the genders.

Yet efforts by international governing bodies to unilaterally eliminate this ancient religious practice through legal mechanisms alone, and not by engaging the religious and cultural systems themselves, does a disservice to the women practicing chaupadi. Chaupadi has intrinsic religious significance and deep roots in the communities in which it is practiced. The UDHR “proclaims the entitlement of everyone to enjoy equal dignity, rights and fundamental freedoms without distinction of any kind, including sex [and] religion.” But what happens when practicing one’s religion through traditional practices rooted in biological differences between the sexes runs counter to Western human rights norms about equality and “nondiscrimination”? Does a woman who wishes to practice chaupadi as a sacred expression of her ancient faith fail to, as the UDHR emphasizes, “enjoy equal dignity, rights and fundamental freedoms” if Western human rights norms and legal doctrines prohibit her from exercising her religion?

Despite the foreignness and apparent primitiveness of chaupadi practices to modern Westerners, many religions and cultures still follow similar practices. In traditional Judaism, women followed [and in some communities still follow] the laws of niddah, which regulated ritual practices pertaining to menstruating women. The guidelines of niddah originated in the book of Leviticus and state that during the time of her menstruation, a woman would be ritually impure and should refrain from sexual contact with her spouse. After the observance of this time of separation, women were to immerse themselves in a mikveh, or ritual bath for the purposes of purification. According to the Jewish Women’s Archive, the laws of niddah had implications for the entire family unit: “the rabbis interpreted the laws of niddah within a broader framework known as taharat hamishpahah, the laws of family purity. As the term implies, Jewish law transformed women’s observance of niddah into a duty that affected the entire family.” Therefore, such religious doctrines provided a framework for structuring relationships and roles that impacted not just women, but the quotidian rhythms and rituals of their families and larger communities.

In many Native American communities, practices stemming from spiritual beliefs also called for the ritual separation of menstruating women from the daily lives of their families and communities. In the Lakota tradition, menstruating women are said to be “on their moon.” In Judith Fitzgerald and Michael Oren Fitzgerald’s The Spirit of Indian Women (2005), the authors explore the spiritual elements of sacred rituals of menstruating women. In this book, Joseph Rockboy of the Yankton/Sicangu Dakota explains the sacred mystery of women’s cycles: “People will say that a woman who is having her moon should stay away from the ceremonies because she could ruin them, but they don’t know why this is. It is because a woman is the only one who can bring a child into this world. It is the most sacred and powerful of all mysteries […] A man’s power is nothing compared to this, and he can do nothing compared to it.”

Rockboy elaborates that the power women possess during their moon time is believed to be so powerful that if a woman were in close proximity to spiritual ceremonies and sacred objects “during this time it will drain all the male powers from them. You see, a woman’s power and a man’s are opposites- not in a bad way, but in a good way.” Rockboy explains that during this time, women would traditionally rest in their own moon lodge and be attended by other women, not engaging in any labor during this time. This was done not as punishment or isolation for menstruating women, but “out of our respect for this great mystery, out of respect for the special powers of women.”

Questions about how to balance religious freedom to practice ancient rituals with modern notions of gender equality are complex and resist formulaic, winner-take-all, simple answers. Chaupadi has, in at least some instances, had objective and measurable negative outcomes on women’s physical and mental health. Westerners reject religious practices of any kind that isolate women, put them in harm’s way, deprive them of proper nutrition, or create barriers to their education. Yet Westerners must understand that we bring my own set of cultural and spiritual biases to bear on ourinterpretations of these ancient practices that are easily written off in modern society as “superstitious” or “barbaric.” Yet to promote justice in a pluralist society, we must enter into this uncomfortable space of recognizing that paradoxically, considering chaupadi from these clashing perspectives can help us better understand how to advance the best interests of all involved.

The norm or goal of public justice for government asks what the right role and responsibility is for each sphere of society in advancing justice for all people, especially vulnerable people groups. Modern human rights paradigms, which overemphasize the rights of the individual and underemphasize the importance of the various communities (family, neighborhood, school, church, business) in which individuals live their lives come up short here. They simply declare it the law’s duty to abolish centuries’ old religious practices. Yet more than 10 years after the outlawing of chaupadi in Nepal, women are still dying. Another approach is needed: one that recognizes the need to balance the rights of women from physical harm and deprivation with the rights of individuals and communities to practice their religion, even if their religion seems countercultural or treats the sexes differently in some instances.

Civil society organizations can help establish the infrastructure needed to make small changes in the cultural and religious frameworks to allow variations on ways to practice chaupadi. According to a recent NPR article: “Gyanashyam Nagarkoti works with his organization Surya Social Service Society to promote safe menstrual practices. But he’s not aiming to change deep-rooted beliefs overnight. Instead, Nagarkoti’s team goes for incremental changes, like persuading families to set up a secluded room for menstruating women to sleep inside the house.” This approach doesn’t belittle centuries of spiritual beliefs and practices by failing to acknowledge their significance in communities that still practice chaupadi. Rather than dismissing chaupadi, Nagarkoti’s organization actually engages the deep-seated precepts and practices of the traditional religious system and aims to provide alternatives that honor both the religious freedom of chaupadi practitioners to continue to practice their faith and the need to provide for the physical health and education of Nepali women.

Civil society efforts must deeply understand the sacred and cultural contexts of the practices they are trying to challenge: they must appeal to the hearts and minds of individuals and families, acknowledging that they seek to introduce a paradigm shift and not merely change a practice. Those working to ensure that no woman ever lacks access to education or nutrition or a safe sleeping environment most probably have the best of intentions. Yet efforts that don’t fully understand how deeply enmeshed chaupadi is in the religious and cultural fabric of these communities will have difficulty achieving any changes that would benefit women. Civil society groups ought recognize the complexity and tension of competing fundamental freedoms and orienting paradigms inherent in any efforts to alter or end chaupadi practices.

Just how to balance these seemingly competing rights will be difficult to navigate. Yet any success will depend on the ability of both human rights advocates and traditional religious communities to think creatively and expansively about how to fully honor the rights of women to both be physically safe and to exercise their religion. Solutions like providing women with a separate place to sleep indoors, ensuring menstruating women have access to clean water and nutritious food, and providing for the continuation of women’s education during their periods are all good places to start. And, with some ingenuity and innovation, all of these basic provisions and protections could be provided to girls and women without the complete abolition of chaupadi, for those whose faith calls them to practice it. Only time will tell.

Religious freedom advocates would do well to consider the challenge of upholding religious freedom for traditional communities to engage in sacred practices that, to Western observers well-versed in modern human rights paradigms, may seem discriminatory toward women. Innovative solutions are required that protect the freedom for diverse individuals and communities to embody their animating beliefs and identities, whether here in the US or in Nepal.