The hijra’s contributions enrich the diverse tapestry of Islamic cultural traditions while challenging societal perceptions of gender and identity.
The term “transgender” refers to a broad category of individuals whose gender identity or gender expression is different from their assigned sex at birth. Since they are not affected by sexual orientation, they are mostly referred to as the “third sex.” They frequently face discrimination, stigma, and being “othered” due to a variety of sociocultural practices and beliefs. Their limited social inclusion and participation are the result of this. Within the social diversity of a vast nation such as India, transgender people are referred to as “hijras,” and they are considered to be part of a distinct social group. Seldom are their experiences, viewpoints, and unfulfilled needs assessed.
The so-called “third sex” or gender in South Asia, known as hijra, is an institutionalised subculture of male-bodied, feminine-identified individuals who want to be “macho” males and who offer their male genitalia to a goddess in exchange for spiritual strength.
The uniqueness of hijras is that they exist beyond the sanctified social or familial structure but, paradoxically, in Indian society, the hijras find a place in history and mythology. For example, many Hindu deities manifest as both males and females or as a merging of the 2 sexes in their different incarnations; for example, Lord Vishnu as Mohini, an enchantress with the task of luring away the demons from the elixir of life (Amrita), or Ardhanarishwara (merging of Shiva and Parvati), respectively.
Scholarly interest in?hijra?dates back to colonial times, when the apparent recalcitrance and irreducibility of?hijra?to any neat conceptual category not only troubled the British colonial mind and European scholarly imagination but also posed a direct challenge to the classificatory imperatives of the colonial administration.
Gayatri Reddy (2005) isn’t the only one to notice the strong connection between Islam and hijra identity in India. While hijras have deep roots in Hindu traditions, she points out that many in the community show a special preference for Islam, often recalling a time when they held higher social status under Muslim rule. The Mughal emperors gave eunuchs important roles in their courts, particularly as harem guards, which, as Reddy suggests, made Islam a historical framework for accepting hijras.
Serena Nanda (1999) takes this further, arguing that hijras are direct descendants of the Islamic system of eunuchdom. She even cites government reports claiming that castration only became widespread in India after Muslim invasions. Jaffrey (1997) also backs this up, highlighting how the practice was formalized during the Mughal era.
On the other hand, Taparia (2011) offers a different perspective—he believes hijras embraced Hindu customs as a way to adapt after losing their privileged status in the Mughal courts. While they were once seen as enslaved figures under Mughal rule, hijras later reclaimed their identity and turned the once-imposed practice of emasculation into a symbol of spiritual renunciation.
In Islamic communities marked by rigid gender roles, hijras demonstrate a unique form of agency. They navigate societal constraints to assert their identities and actively participate in communal life. Historically, hijras have formed supportive networks that uphold traditional Islamic customs infused with mysticism, fostering social connections crucial for their existence. These networks challenge binary gender views and provide spaces for navigating identities within Islamic teachings. Furthermore, hijras negotiate their roles within Islamic societies, which traditionally enforce strict gender norms. Operating within a distinct third-gender sphere that encompasses social and spiritual functions intertwined with Islamic rituals, hijras disrupt these norms.
They engage in religious practices and offer spiritual blessings as part of their economic pursuits, despite facing societal opposition. These actions not only sustain their livelihoods but also affirm their visibility and cultural significance within Islamic contexts. Through these proactive engagements, hijras exhibit agency as agents of cultural resilience and transformation within Islamic settings.
Their contributions enrich the diverse tapestry of Islamic cultural traditions while challenging societal perceptions of gender and identity. The “hijru ka khanqah” in Delhi represents a significant institution where hijras demonstrate agency within the complexities of Islamic urban environments. Historically marginalized and often relegated to the fringes of society, scholars like Kulick, 1999 and Nanda, 1999 mention that hijras establish khanqahs as spaces that serve multiple purposes: they are not only centers for religious practice but also community hubs that affirm hijras’ spiritual roles and communal identities.
These spaces provide hijras with a platform to engage in Islamic rituals such as prayers and fasting, activities that are traditionally reserved for cisgender Muslims but are adapted within the unique cultural and social context of hijras. Reddy (2005) and Sircar (2010) highlight how this integration is a radical act, redefining what Islamic inclusivity can look like in a modern, urban setting like Delhi. Through the establishment and maintenance of the khanqah, hijras assert their right to religious expression and community participation. This initiative not only highlights hijras’ agency in shaping their own religious and cultural narratives but also contributes to the diversity and inclusivity of Islamic practices in urban settings like Delhi, illustrating how marginalized communities actively contribute to and redefine religious landscapes.
Of course, the discussion around hijras and their spiritual roles isn’t just about spaces of worship—it’s also deeply tied to their historical experiences with emasculation. The removal of male genitalia has, in different Islamic societies, carried various meanings—sometimes seen as a spiritual transformation, other times as an imposed condition of servitude. But hijras, as Nanda (1999) and Reddy (2005) observe, have reclaimed this practice as something far beyond physical alteration. Instead, they frame it as an act of renunciation, a rejection of conventional masculinity in favor of something more liminal, more spiritual.
This reinterpretation is powerful. It shifts emasculation from being perceived as a stigmatized practice to something deeply meaningful—an act of devotion, a declaration of identity. Sircar (2010) and Kulick (1999) discuss how this challenges entrenched gender norms within Islamic societies, proving that the hijra identity is not just about exclusion, but about reshaping religious and cultural spaces from within. Consequently, hijras reshaped societal perceptions, elevating emasculation to a revered symbol of spiritual commitment rather than a taboo or stigmatized practice.
The efforts of hijras of reclaiming emasculation as a symbol of spiritual devotion challenged entrenched gender norms within Islamic societies, expanding the recognition of non-binary gender identities and fostering a more inclusive understanding of gender diversity within religious contexts. This reinterpretation underscored hijras’ agency in shaping their identities and narratives, asserting their presence in religious and cultural domains traditionally dominated by binary constructs.
The establishment of institutions like the “hijru ka khanqah” in Delhi exemplified hijras’ integration of spiritual practices into Islamic frameworks, solidifying their cultural and religious contributions within broader societal contexts. This transformation not only marked a departure from historical marginalization but also highlighted hijras’ resilience and their capacity to influence and enrich cultural traditions despite societal barriers and discrimination.
What’s even more fascinating is how the cultural reception of hijras has evolved over time. They have historically been both revered and ostracized—called upon to bless weddings and child births while simultaneously being subjected to discrimination. And yet, as seen in spaces like the hijru ka khanqah, their spiritual and cultural legitimacy is being reclaimed. The fact that hijras today actively participate in Islamic rituals, provide guidance, and shape religious discourse is a testament to their resilience.
This cultural acceptance marks a significant shift from earlier periods when hijras faced severe stigma and discrimination. Over time, societal attitudes have evolved as communities have come to appreciate the spiritual and communal roles that hijras fulfill. The story of hijras in Islamic contexts is not just about struggle—it’s about agency, adaptation, and survival. As Reddy (2005) and Sircar (2010) emphasize, hijras are not passive subjects of history; they are active agents in shaping it.
Their journey—from being marginalized figures to reclaiming religious authority—reveals how societies can evolve toward inclusivity, even within the frameworks of deeply traditional faiths. By studying these transformations through historical, anthropological, and religious lenses, scholars can trace the agency of hijras in reshaping cultural narratives and contributing to more inclusive societal frameworks.
Tehmeena Rizvi is a Public Policy Professional and is pursuing Phd from Bennett University, Her areas of work include Women, Peace and Security focusing on the intersection of Conflict, Muslim Women and Religion.
Courtesy: Outlook India
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