In 1883, the Calcutta Medical College took a bold step and opened its doors to women. Yet, the sight of a female doctor was still rare, and many who began the journey could not see it through. Among the trailblazers was Jamini Sen, one of the earliest women to graduate in 1896. Just three years later, her life took a turn when she was appointed house physician to the royal family of Nepal, following in the footsteps of Kadambini Ganguly and Anandibai Joshi. In Nepal, Sen advocated for an inclusive approach to tackle epidemics, promoting modern sanitation while respecting native beliefs.

Author Deepta Roy Chakraverti’s recent work, Daktarin Jamini Sen (Penguin Random House India), brings this lesser-known story to life, tracing Sen’s journey from her birth in 1871 in Basanda village, Bengal, to her emergence as one of British India’s first female doctors.

In the prologue, Chakraverti reveals how deeply personal the project is. Sen was her great-grand aunt, a presence in family lore passed down through her grandmother, Roma, and her mother, Ipsita. “The more I heard and understood, growing up, the more she seemed like a figure out of a daring adventure, a romance of another time,” she writes.

Yet admiration soon gave way to disquiet: “And a sense of great injustice grew within. Why had a woman like Jamini been forgotten? Was it because, at one time, her life story would have been ‘inconvenient’ to some quarters? Subsequently, she had been allowed to be reduced to just a footnote.” What began in anger hardened into resolve, “I would not let this happen—not on my watch,” she told The Indian Express.

The following excerpt is from Chapter 14, ‘The Fight to Wield the Scalpel and Stethoscope’. It explores the battle for women’s entry into the medical profession in Britain, ultimately situating Sen’s achievements within this narrative of resistance.

Oftentimes, we may think of discrimination against women as a scourge prevalent only in the subcontinent. However, history stands witness to the fact that the moment the fairer sex desire to step into the world beyond the confines of home, barriers and opposition stand strongly against them– be it in the East or the West.

One such battleground where women had to fight for the right to wield the scalpel and stethoscope was in Britain. Medical historian Kristin Hay has written for the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow on how women made their way down that winding path and earned the title of fellows.

The nineteenth century was a turning point for medicine in Britain. It was by the Medical Act of 1858 that hundreds of years of struggle culminated in victory when highly trained physicians and surgeons were distinguished from unqualified ‘irregular’ practitioners.

Thus, a formal standard was created for those entering the medical profession. There was now a Medical Register, which held the names of medical practitioners licensed to practice medicine. This was done through the universities or through the recognized medical bodies, such as the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow. Since its incorporation by the Royal Charter in 1599, the faculty was the guardian of the standard of medical practice in the region by being an examining authority and being in the nature of a watchdog to prevent unlawful activities.

However, the problem arose in case of women medical practitioners, whose numbers were not too high but not too low either. The Medical Act required recognized practitioners to enter the portals through the route of examinations conducted within the universities and bodies like the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons. But the majority of these did not admit women. And so the problem remained for women: Were they to be denied because of their sex? Through a route spanned by protests and persistence, finally a law was passed in 1876, called the Enabling Act, which repealed earlier restrictions and allowed women to obtain qualifications that could be registered. It said,

‘The powers of every body entitled under the Medical Act to grant qualifications for registration shall extend to the granting of any qualification for registration granted by such body to all persons without distinction of sex.’

Meanwhile, the new General Medical Council was moving towards standardizing education and licensing authorities across all of the UK. Well aware that this would take away from their independence and authority, the Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, along with the Royal College of Physicians and the Royal College of Surgeons of Edinburgh developed a ‘conjoint’ examination called the Triple Qualification. This established a single licensing board in Scotland while allowing each of the triad to maintain their autonomy. Without really intending to, perhaps, this created a pathway by which women could now sit for the Triple Qualification exam. Most students, including women students, in extramural schools followed this curriculum and since women couldn’t study at universities, this examination became the means by which they could obtain their medical licenses.

Thus, the triad now allowed women into the conjoint examinations. However, the attitude was very hostile to women. There was a general feeling that allowing women in would bring down the stature of the bodies and indeed of the profession itself. It was a couple of years after the 1876 Act that a Miss Taffe applied for the Faculty Diploma and was denied. The excuse was slim but valid. Things were at an impasse because while the law allowed her to apply and for her application to be considered, it did not say that they were compelled to accept her.

So, while the law made it such that women were able to obtain licenses and enter the Medical Register, it did nothing to overcome the prejudice of universities and organizations who would still not admit them.

In the meantime, the Faculty at Glasgow amended their rules  in 1886 so that it now read, ‘Admission to the Licentiateship of the Faculty shall be open to women equally with men.’

The issue of admitting women as fellows was treated as even more radical and voted against in a faculty meeting in 1892. It was seen as effecting an undesired and unnecessary change to the constitution of the organization itself. Fellows could vote in elections, they had many privileges and, most importantly, they represented the public face of the faculty. It was unimaginable that any woman should don this role…

In 1909, after completion of a little more than 300 years, the faculty was finally granted the title of the Royal Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow. However, this period also saw the growth of other avenues of medical education and training through universities and hospitals. The presence of women in the profession was also increasing.

The Royal Faculty had started to feel itself on tenuous ground when in 1899, a case involving the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons arose. That college was taken to court by a female applicant for fellowship who had been denied, despite fulfilling all requirements as would have been of a male counterpart. The situation in question was uncomfortably similar to their own internal attitudes. Then soon after, the Royal College of Surgeons of England started admitting women as fellows.

(End of excerpt)

Chakraverti notes that it was in November 1910 that a motion was finally passed at a meeting of the Royal Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow, declaring that “Admission to the Fellowship of Faculty shall be open to women equally with men.” Two years later, in 1912, Sen sat the fellowship examination, passed, and was admitted as a Fellow qua Surgeon of the Royal Faculty of Physicians and Surgeons of Glasgow. In doing so, she became the Faculty’s first female fellow.