By Nityanand Jayaraman
In the three days that I was travelling and away from the TV, my fellow citizens had plotted and enacted a revolution, and I missed it. When I returned, our nation’s moral conscience that resides inside 24×7 idiot boxes had already inspired thousands of middle- and upper-class Indians to hold hands or light candles against corruption. In Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, the pavements – usually occupied by the bony backsides of working class India – were adorned by soft, well-fed derrieres of the well-to-do. They had come to express their solidarity with Anna Hazare in his crusade against corruption. Anything that gets the Great Indian Middle Class to hold a candle or give a fig about anything but themselves deserves to be called a revolution.
But am I wrong in suggesting that the candle-holding middle class Indian is not very different from the Maoist in his or her ideology? Both have no faith in the constitution. The Maoist takes up arms to dismantle the parliament. The middle-class dismantles it by shunning it, reviling it and neglecting it. Ironically, both are purportedly reactions to the concentration of power in the hands of a few; both will eventually erode democracy and concentrate power even further.
Let me explain. April 13 (today) is the date for assembly elections in Tamilnadu. In an effort to bring candidates to engage with voters, a group of organisers from a South Chennai MLA constituency organised a unique all-candidate meeting last Saturday. A day earlier, many debutante middle-class activists had rushed off to the Marina beach to join the call for a law against corruption. The organisers of the all-candidate meeting invited their public-spirited friends to also attend their function. But many of the optimistic candle-holders were cynical. The organisers were told that politics is dirty, that politicians are evil, and that nothing good will come of engaging with the Assembly candidates.
MLAs and MPs are the lawmakers of the State and the country. We need to educate ourselves about them, educate them of our needs, and hold them accountable. Otherwise, no amount of holding candles will bring accountability and integrity in public life. Law-making is not the remit of hunger-strikers, although in a democracy that is a legitimate way to push one’s point.
If the devil is in the detail, the Jan Lokpal bill is a den of devils. That the Lokpal is vested with unprecedented powers – of lawmaker, judge, jury and executioner – is in itself cause for concern. The bill almost eliminates the role of our elected representatives in appointing and dismissing the Lokpals. That is downright scary as it contemplates a massive concentration of unaccountable power. But these problems can be sorted out. The debate on the bill is yet to happen within the parliament and outside. I am more worried about the choice of a quick-fix satyagraha driven by personality politics and hero figures, where the hero decides what is corrupt and what is not, who is corrupt and who is not.
Annaji’s endorsement of Narendra Modi as a model CM leaves me in no doubt that the great Gandhian is dangerously deluded. Modi’s Government has presided over one of the most brutal genocides in this country’s history. In a note threatening to distance herself from Annaji, Mallika Sarabhai has written that far from overseeing rural development, Modi has stealthily alienated grazing and farmlands and sold them off to a small club of industrialists at throwaway prices.
Modi wants Gujarat to be like Singapore. Singapore may have a clean government, if you define clean in a narrow, antiseptic manner. Singapore has no democracy. That model appeals to many middle-class Indians. That is probably because that is what a middle-class nation will look like. India is not Singapore; it is not a middle-class nation; the poor are still the majority and growing in absolute numbers. Their only chance to ensure that we don’t run away with all the goodies is by ensuring that our Constitution is not tampered with, and the rights it guarantees are not encroached upon.
I am as fearful of a lazy, silent middle-class as I am of a vocal, active one.
What worries me is the predominant culture among the middle-classes that equates education with virtue, and suggests a strident libertarianism with openly anti-poor values as ideology. Bereft of any exposure to the extreme hardships faced by the poorer sections of society, this culture has no compunctions in prioritising the individual over the collective, with imposing a consensus on the conversion of multicultural cities into exclusive monocultural enclaves, or selectively branding vendors on the beach or on our sidewalks as encroachers, while leaving out the corporate giants that forcibly take over indigenous lands from the purview of that definition.
The practitioners of this culture view anything sarkari as automatically venal, corrupt, ridiculous, dirty and inherently immutable. This sentiment is being used to hand over state-run enterprises – from profit-making navratnas to water utilities, and even the public distribution system – to private players.
Corporations have a stranglehold over our democracy. They call the shots. CEOs head important committees. Some are made Rajya Sabha MPs. They work with the Home Ministry on internal security. They influence cabinet appointments. They get laws changed to suit themselves, and even draft the bills that become our laws. They cosy up to our chief ministers and top police brass to turn the state against its people. Through public-private partnerships and industry associations, they work in tandem with Mayors to present city vision plans that turn out to be nightmares for the urban poor. Their interest willy nilly becomes national interest.
But no matter what, the Indian middle class will not find fault with the corporate model. That is why Raja is reviled, but Tata is revered. That is why we send our children to work in MNCs, but will do whatever it takes to keep them out of politics and activism. That is why, in Jantar Mantar last weekend, and every time I see the middle-classes raise their substantial voices, I nurse a niggling fear that the stage is being set for a de facto dictatorship.
If we are to avert this, we need a radical transformation of middle-class culture. We need a middle class that is as moved to take to the streets to condemn police atrocities against adivasis in Chattisgarh as it is to support the call for justice for Arushi Talwar.
The writer is a middle-class journalist, researcher and activist residing in Chennai.
In the three days that I was travelling and away from the TV, my fellow citizens had plotted and enacted a revolution, and I missed it. When I returned, our nation’s moral conscience that resides inside 24×7 idiot boxes had already inspired thousands of middle- and upper-class Indians to hold hands or light candles against corruption. In Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, the pavements – usually occupied by the bony backsides of working class India – were adorned by soft, well-fed derrieres of the well-to-do. They had come to express their solidarity with Anna Hazare in his crusade against corruption. Anything that gets the Great Indian Middle Class to hold a candle or give a fig about anything but themselves deserves to be called a revolution.
But am I wrong in suggesting that the candle-holding middle class Indian is not very different from the Maoist in his or her ideology? Both have no faith in the constitution. The Maoist takes up arms to dismantle the parliament. The middle-class dismantles it by shunning it, reviling it and neglecting it. Ironically, both are purportedly reactions to the concentration of power in the hands of a few; both will eventually erode democracy and concentrate power even further.
Let me explain. April 13 (today) is the date for assembly elections in Tamilnadu. In an effort to bring candidates to engage with voters, a group of organisers from a South Chennai MLA constituency organised a unique all-candidate meeting last Saturday. A day earlier, many debutante middle-class activists had rushed off to the Marina beach to join the call for a law against corruption. The organisers of the all-candidate meeting invited their public-spirited friends to also attend their function. But many of the optimistic candle-holders were cynical. The organisers were told that politics is dirty, that politicians are evil, and that nothing good will come of engaging with the Assembly candidates.
MLAs and MPs are the lawmakers of the State and the country. We need to educate ourselves about them, educate them of our needs, and hold them accountable. Otherwise, no amount of holding candles will bring accountability and integrity in public life. Law-making is not the remit of hunger-strikers, although in a democracy that is a legitimate way to push one’s point.
If the devil is in the detail, the Jan Lokpal bill is a den of devils. That the Lokpal is vested with unprecedented powers – of lawmaker, judge, jury and executioner – is in itself cause for concern. The bill almost eliminates the role of our elected representatives in appointing and dismissing the Lokpals. That is downright scary as it contemplates a massive concentration of unaccountable power. But these problems can be sorted out. The debate on the bill is yet to happen within the parliament and outside. I am more worried about the choice of a quick-fix satyagraha driven by personality politics and hero figures, where the hero decides what is corrupt and what is not, who is corrupt and who is not.
Annaji’s endorsement of Narendra Modi as a model CM leaves me in no doubt that the great Gandhian is dangerously deluded. Modi’s Government has presided over one of the most brutal genocides in this country’s history. In a note threatening to distance herself from Annaji, Mallika Sarabhai has written that far from overseeing rural development, Modi has stealthily alienated grazing and farmlands and sold them off to a small club of industrialists at throwaway prices.
Modi wants Gujarat to be like Singapore. Singapore may have a clean government, if you define clean in a narrow, antiseptic manner. Singapore has no democracy. That model appeals to many middle-class Indians. That is probably because that is what a middle-class nation will look like. India is not Singapore; it is not a middle-class nation; the poor are still the majority and growing in absolute numbers. Their only chance to ensure that we don’t run away with all the goodies is by ensuring that our Constitution is not tampered with, and the rights it guarantees are not encroached upon.
I am as fearful of a lazy, silent middle-class as I am of a vocal, active one.
What worries me is the predominant culture among the middle-classes that equates education with virtue, and suggests a strident libertarianism with openly anti-poor values as ideology. Bereft of any exposure to the extreme hardships faced by the poorer sections of society, this culture has no compunctions in prioritising the individual over the collective, with imposing a consensus on the conversion of multicultural cities into exclusive monocultural enclaves, or selectively branding vendors on the beach or on our sidewalks as encroachers, while leaving out the corporate giants that forcibly take over indigenous lands from the purview of that definition.
The practitioners of this culture view anything sarkari as automatically venal, corrupt, ridiculous, dirty and inherently immutable. This sentiment is being used to hand over state-run enterprises – from profit-making navratnas to water utilities, and even the public distribution system – to private players.
Corporations have a stranglehold over our democracy. They call the shots. CEOs head important committees. Some are made Rajya Sabha MPs. They work with the Home Ministry on internal security. They influence cabinet appointments. They get laws changed to suit themselves, and even draft the bills that become our laws. They cosy up to our chief ministers and top police brass to turn the state against its people. Through public-private partnerships and industry associations, they work in tandem with Mayors to present city vision plans that turn out to be nightmares for the urban poor. Their interest willy nilly becomes national interest.
But no matter what, the Indian middle class will not find fault with the corporate model. That is why Raja is reviled, but Tata is revered. That is why we send our children to work in MNCs, but will do whatever it takes to keep them out of politics and activism. That is why, in Jantar Mantar last weekend, and every time I see the middle-classes raise their substantial voices, I nurse a niggling fear that the stage is being set for a de facto dictatorship.
If we are to avert this, we need a radical transformation of middle-class culture. We need a middle class that is as moved to take to the streets to condemn police atrocities against adivasis in Chattisgarh as it is to support the call for justice for Arushi Talwar.
The writer is a middle-class journalist, researcher and activist residing in Chennai.
कोई टिप्पणी नहीं:
एक टिप्पणी भेजें