UN Voices: How Culture Matters Most in Reducing Gender-Based Violence

Every year, the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence campaign brings an international spotlight onto issues that, for many women in India, are simply part of lived reality. As a security professional working in India, I am constantly reminded that gender-based violence in India cannot be separated from the cultural and social norms that silently shape women’s lives here. This sentiment is reinforced during my field assessments, training sessions with women professionals, or while examining patterns of crime and civil unrest.

India’s diversity is often celebrated, but within its multitude of traditions lies a deeply rooted system of expectations that continues to influence how women navigate their environments. Long before a woman encounters a security threat on the street or in a workplace, she has already learned a set of unwritten rules passed down through generations. It could be as innocuous as ‘don’t draw attention to yourself’, ‘don’t say no too firmly,’ ‘don’t challenge authority’, ‘don’t stay out late’, and ‘do not do anything that will embarrass the family.’ These then are not merely cultural habits, but they become internalized survival strategies. And these strategies directly intersect with the work we do in the security sector.

In many security awareness training sessions I have conducted, especially those focused on women, I have observed how deeply ingrained societal expectations can limit practical safety actions. Women often sense discomfort or risk early -- yet navigating how to respond is shaped by differential power dynamics as men frequently occupy positions of authority at work, at home, and in public spaces, which can make speaking up or taking action feel daunting. While some women do act assertively, others hesitate, not because they lack awareness, but because the fear of social judgement or reprisal is real. In a conservative society, even reasonable steps to protect oneself may be scrutinized, dismissed, or labelled as overreacting, creating a constant tension between instinct and societal constraints.

This dynamic plays out in data as well. When compiling incident records from conflict-affected districts, border areas, or metropolitan zones, the gap between reported and experienced harassment becomes glaringly obvious. Women often disclose, in private conversations during training sessions, that they navigate threats daily on public transport, in office corridors, during work travel but choose not to report them. Many women pause not because they doubt their instincts, but because they live with the subtle pressures and power imbalances that make every reaction feel like it must be justified twice over. This silence distorts the picture we rely on as security professionals. Risk assessments become incomplete not because the threats are absent, but because the women facing those threats have been taught that silence is safer than escalation.

The rise of technology has only complicated this landscape. Online harassment, financial manipulation, impersonation and blackmail have surged, but digital safety awareness has not kept pace. Again, cultural hesitation plays a role. Many women, and especially young girls, endure online abuse quietly until the situation becomes an emergency. Families often treat digital harassment as trivial or ‘not real enough’ to be taken seriously. For women who already shoulder the burden of respectability, even reporting a cyber threat feels like exposing themselves to scrutiny.

Even within organizations like the UN, where gender considerations are strongly embedded in security policies, there remains a gap between what is written and what women can realistically do in conservative social settings. Our plans may clearly advise unnecessary night movement for women, outline safe-travel protocols, and emphasize reporting mechanisms but these measures still assume that women are able to act on them freely. 

In India’s traditional cultural framework, mobility, communication, and even routine safety decisions are often negotiated within unequal power structures at home or in the community. A plan may be gender-responsive on paper, yet it can falter when a woman hesitates to report a concern, cannot leave home without permission, or faces backlash for prioritizing her own safety. These nuances are rarely captured in formal documents, but they determine whether a security protocol succeeds in practice.

What becomes clear over the years is that gender-based violence in India is not only an issue of crime, it is a product of upbringing, societal expectations, and deeply internalized boundaries. Cultural sensitivity is crucial, but it cannot become an excuse to avoid challenging harmful norms. Change requires engagement not just with individual women but with communities, institutions, and families. It requires conversations about autonomy, about the right to occupy public spaces without fear, and about the legitimacy of women’s instincts and experiences.

The 16 Days of Activism campaign is ultimately a reminder that safety is not merely about preventing violence, it is about enabling freedom. For women in India, true security will come when they are not only protected from external threats but also liberated from internalized caution imposed by tradition. It will come when organizations design their security strategies with an understanding of how social dynamics shape behavior. And it will come when women have both the tools and the cultural permission to act in their own defence.

As a security professional, my work has shown me that policies, data, and training modules matter, but cultural change matters more. Women do not need to be taught fear; society has done that for them. What they need is the space, confidence, and support to trust their instincts and assert their safety without apology. Until that shift becomes visible, gender-based violence in India will remain not just a security issue, but a reflection of the silent, powerful norms that continue to shape our society.

Deepanjali Bakshi
National Security Officer, United Nations Department of Safety and Security New Delhi