Where does this mindset come from?

In most Bangladeshi households, children internalise gender roles early. Boys are told not to “act like girls,” and the term meyeli (girlish) is used as a slur. The implication is that anything associated with femininity is lesser — weak, sentimental, irrational.

Fathers, teachers, and peers highlight this idea. Masculinity is validated through toughness and emotional detachment, while femininity is treated as ornamental or dependent.

Sociologist Raewyn Connell’s theory of hegemonic masculinity explains how such gender norms take root. It refers to the dominant form of masculinity that justifies male supremacy and marginalises not only women but also men who do not conform — the “soft,” the emotional, the gentle.

In South Asia, this hegemonic ideal equates masculinity with power, physical force, and sexual control, often reinforced through peer mockery, bullying, and even violence.

When institutions like universities or law enforcement agencies are criticised using “feminine” symbols, it is not just the institutions being ridiculed — it is also the entire idea of femininity. It reinforces the belief that failure to be aggressive, commanding, or violent is feminine, and therefore shameful.

Feminist theorists have long argued against this false binary. Simone de Beauvoir’s famous line — “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman” — argues that gender roles are constructed, not natural. And Nivedita Menon, in Seeing Like a Feminist, critiques how even women’s bravery is often only recognised when described in masculine terms. She points to the iconic line praising the Rani of Jhansi: “Khoob ladi mardani” — “She fought like a man.” As Menon asks, what does it mean if even female heroism must be understood as masculine?