POLITICS

When Misogyny Disguises Itself as Humor: The Unfair Blame Placed on Roja Selvamani During Nepal’s Flood Crisis

Social media trolls have linked actress‑turned‑politician Roja Selvamani’s visit to Nepal with the country’s devastating floods, branding her an “iron leg” and a bringer of bad luck. The episode exposes how misogyny, superstition and partisan hostility converge to weaponise humor against women in public life. Experts warn that such scapegoating normalises gendered scapegoats and distracts from the real humanitarian emergency.

By Open Vaartha Desk ·

What happened

Social media trolls have linked actress‑turned‑politician Roja Selvamani’s visit to Nepal with the country’s devastating floods, branding her an “iron leg” and a bringer of bad luck. The episode exposes how misogyny, superstition and partisan hostility converge to weaponise humor against women in public life. Experts warn that such scapegoating normalises gendered scapegoats and distracts from the real humanitarian emergency. Misogynistic humor blamed Roja Selvamani for Nepal’s floods, revealing how gendered superstition hijacks political critique.

TL;DR

Misogynistic humor blamed Roja Selvamani for Nepal’s floods, revealing how gendered superstition hijacks political critique.

Key points

<p>The recent floods that swept across Nepal have become the backdrop for a disturbing wave of online harassment targeting Roja Selvamani, the Indian actress‑politician who visited the country earlier this month. A segment of social‑media users seized on her presence, dubbing her an “iron leg” and insinuating that her arrival caused the deluge. While some dismissed the remarks as harmless trolling, feminist analysts argue that the episode is a textbook case of misogyny masquerading as humor.</p><p>From a feminist perspective, the attack is noteworthy because it sidesteps any substantive discussion of Selvamani’s political positions, policy proposals, or public record. Instead of debating her stance on cross‑border cooperation, disaster relief, or bilateral relations, the discourse pivots to a superstition‑laden narrative that a woman’s footsteps can summon misfortune. The phrase “iron leg” – a pejorative label that suggests an uncanny, almost mechanical capacity to bring disaster – epitomises the regression to age‑old myths that women are carriers of bad luck.</p><p>This pattern is not new. Across cultures and generations, women have been blamed for a range of calamities, from crop failures to disease outbreaks. Historical accounts reveal women being branded as cursed, unlucky, or dangerous, often because societies found it simpler to scapegoat an individual – particularly a woman – than to confront systemic or environmental causes. The current online vitriol against Selvamani is a digital continuation of that legacy.</p><p>Critics of the trolling argue that words matter. Repeatedly portraying women as sources of bad luck normalises a culture where gendered scapegoating becomes acceptable. When such narratives are amplified on platforms with millions of users, they reinforce prejudices that feminist movements have fought against for decades. The danger lies not merely in the insult itself, but in the way it diverts attention from the real crisis: the floods have displaced thousands, destroyed homes, and left communities grappling with loss and uncertainty.</p><p>It is essential to distinguish legitimate political criticism from gender‑based harassment. Feminism does not shield women from scrutiny; it demands that women be treated as political subjects capable of being questioned on their policies, decisions, and public conduct. The standard of critique should be equal for all public figures, regardless of gender. As the commentary notes, “Criticise her politics. Question her decisions. Challenge her statements. Examine her public record. But do not turn superstition into a weapon against her simply because she is a woman in the public eye.”</p><p>The humanitarian dimension of the Nepal floods underscores the cruelty of the trolling. Flood victims are confronting displacement, loss of livelihood, and the trauma of rebuilding their lives. Using their suffering as a pretext to ridicule a female politician is both intellectually dishonest and morally reprehensible. It shifts the focus from accountability for disaster preparedness and climate resilience to a baseless gendered blame game.</p><p>The episode raises a broader question: why do some individuals still find it easier to imagine that a woman’s presence brings misfortune rather than to engage with the complex meteorological, geographical, and infrastructural factors that cause floods? In an era where scientific explanations are readily available, the persistence of such superstitions signals deep‑seated gender biases that continue to shape public discourse.</p><p>In the 21st century, women in public life should not have to defend themselves against accusations that their mere presence is a curse. The call to action is not to shield Roja Selvamani from legitimate critique, but to demand a higher standard of criticism—one that focuses on policy, performance, and accountability, not on gendered superstition. As the analysis concludes, “We can disagree with women. We can challenge women. We can oppose women politically. But we must stop blaming women for things they did not cause.”</p>