Every generation has its political disagreements. Governments change. Parties rise and fall. Elections are won and lost.
But every now and then, a moment arrives that tells us something far more important than politics; it tells us about our society.
The recent remarks directed at young women protesting over issues in education were one such moment.
Instead of engaging with their questions, some public figures chose to mock them. They were dismissed as unserious, ridiculed for their generation, and spoken about in ways that questioned not their arguments, but their character.
Whenever women step into public life, whether as students, journalists, activists, professionals, or ordinary citizens demanding accountability, there are always voices waiting to reduce them to stereotypes.
Not because they are wrong.
But because they are women.
That is the red flag.
The greatest warning sign is not the political party someone supports. It is not the ideology they claim to believe in. It is the ease with which they strip women of their dignity the moment those women disagree with them.
Watch carefully.
1. Do they respond to a woman’s argument with facts, or with insults?
2. Do they criticise her ideas, or her morality?
3. Do they debate her position, or question her character?
4. Do they believe women deserve respect only when they remain silent, agreeable and convenient?
These questions reveal far more about a person’s values than the symbols they carry or the slogans they chant.
Misogyny rarely announces itself openly. It disguises itself as concern for ‘culture’, ‘tradition’, ‘discipline’, or ‘values’. It asks women to be patient, respectful and obedient, while demanding far less introspection from those in power. It celebrates women as mothers and daughters in speeches, yet finds it remarkably easy to humiliate them when they become dissenters.
History has shown us this pattern repeatedly.
Whenever women demand equal space, equal voice or equal accountability, the easiest way to silence them is not through reason but through ridicule. Label them emotional. Call them uncultured. Mock their intelligence. Question their motives. Suggest that they are seeking attention.
Anything but answer the question they asked.
The objective is never debate.
The objective is intimidation.
And that should concern all of us, not because it belongs to one political ideology, but because it belongs to a mindset.
There is another uncomfortable truth.
Misogyny is not carried only by men.
Sometimes, women become its messengers too.
When women ridicule other women for protesting, mock their aspirations, question their character or dismiss their voices instead of engaging with their ideas, they strengthen the very prejudices that have historically limited women’s freedom.
The face changes.
The prejudice does not.
This is why the conversation must rise above personalities. It is not about one politician, one celebrity or one protest. It is about recognising a pattern that repeats itself whenever women refuse to stay in the roles society has assigned to them.

A democracy cannot flourish if half its citizens are expected to speak only within invisible boundaries drawn by others. A society that is uncomfortable with women asking difficult questions will eventually become uncomfortable with anyone asking difficult questions.
That is why this conversation is larger than politics.
It is about the kind of people we choose to trust.
The kind of colleagues we work with.
The kind of parents we become.
The kind of leaders we celebrate.
Character is revealed not by how respectfully we treat people who agree with us, but by how we treat those who challenge us.
Respect that depends on obedience is not respect.
Courtesy that disappears during disagreement is not character.
And confidence that requires humiliating another human being is not strength.
So, if you are looking for a red flag, don’t begin by asking which party someone supports. Listen to how they speak about women when they are angry.
Watch how they react when women refuse to stay in the roles, they have assigned them.
Observe whether they see women as equal citizens, or merely as symbols to praise when they comply and punish when they don’t.
Politics changes. Power changes. Governments change. Character rarely does.
Perhaps that is the only test that truly matters.
A Measure of Character
The questions that follow are not about political affiliation. They are about character. They may help you understand not only yourself, but also the kind of people you choose to trust, love, admire and walk through life with.
Red Flags
1. Do they attack a woman’s character instead of responding to her ideas?
2. Do they believe women who protest deserve ridicule rather than respect?
3. Do they use words like ‘culture’, ‘tradition’, ‘honour’, or ‘values’ selectively to policewomen’s behaviour?
4. Do they show empathy only towards women who agree with them?
5. Do they mock women who are outspoken, ambitious or politically active?
6. Do they hold women to standards they never expect of men?
7. Do they dismiss women’s concerns as ‘attention-seeking’, ‘drama’ or ‘overreaction’ instead of engaging with the issue?
8. Do they excuse sexist remarks when they come from people they admire?
9. When proven wrong, do they apologise—or double down by attacking the woman instead?
Green Flags
1. They challenge ideas without humiliating people.
2. They believe disagreement is compatible with dignity.
3. They defend a person’s right to speak even when they disagree with what is being said.
4. They recognise that respect is unconditional, not a reward for obedience.
5. They are willing to examine their own biases.
6. They judge people by the strength of their arguments, not by their gender.
Remember:
Political opinions differ.
Religious beliefs differ.
Cultures differ.
Ideologies differ.
But respect for another person’s dignity should never depend on whether they agree with us.
That is not a political principle.
It is a human one.






