A blog for discussions on media, political and cultural issues of South Asian and international significance

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Feed him to the public

My friend, and former colleague, Vinay Sitapati calls for Varun Gandhi's prosecution, both by the courts and the Election Commission, in this well-argued Indian Express op-ed. As behooves a rabid free-speech fundamentalist, however, I believe that Gandhi should not be prosecuted, and that hate speech regulations have no space in a healthy democracy.

Quite obviously, I do not endorse, support, or agree with anything in the comments Gandhi allegedly made here. I object to his prosecution, however, on matter of principle. Hate speech deserves protection like any other form of speech, because:

a. It is not clear that regulation of such speech will solve the more fundamental problem
b. Hate speech shines a light on social discontent, and is thus an important educational tool
c. In a democracy, one must have faith in the maturity of the people.

To build on each argument in turn. First off, by prosecuting Gandhi, or by preventing him from running for elections, the government/EC risks turning him into a martyr, and sparking a communal conflagaration. Already, sections of the Sangh Parivar, bloggers, and members of the public have begun speaking in support of Gandhi. Prosecution is likely to inspire a greater groundswell of opinion in his favour. Further, given that hate speech laws take as their aim the protection of minorities, it only furthers the resentment members of the majority feel towards the State's 'appeasement' of such groups. There is no need to make Varun Gandhi into a martyr for the religious right.

Secondly, the fact that Gandhi made these sorts of speeches on the campaign trail implies that he expected them to work (unless he's a psychopath, in which case prosecuting him makes little sense in any case). If this reflects the state of affairs in the constituency he was campaigning in, then it's a serious problem for communal harmony in Uttar Pradesh. Gandhi's outburst, therefore, is educative in its effect. It shows up this glaring social problem, and necessitates action against communalism in UP. Prosecuting Gandhi, in addition to increasing communal tensions, is also likely to be merely cosmetic. The real need, of course, is to combat the communal sentiment he is cashing in on. And his speeches have helped to identify the problem. Were hate speech driven underground, the wounds of hatred would fester without our ever coming to know about it, till perhaps it was too late.

Thirdly, Gandhi's comments were made in a particular political context: that of seeking votes prior to a massive democratic exercise. If one is truly committed to the notion of a liberal democracy, then his punishment must be left in the hands of the people. Democracies work on the principle that the multitude is ultimately wise, because there is no other political standard for wisdom in such systems of government. Second-guessing the decisions of citizens is not just politically foolish (for the reasons I've listed above), but also disrespectful of the views of the people. If we have enough faith in the views of the people to choose the best government from the various options available before them, we should also have the faith to believe that they will not be swayed by the hateful rants of a self-interested bigot. To do otherwise is, in this context, to strike at the very edifice the Indian Constitution bases our government on: the collective wisdom of the people.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Is Indian secularism dead?

One of my first posts here was a qualified defence of the Indian version of secularism, which I took to mean a pluralist, inclusive approach to religion-state relations. This Indian secularism, I argued, was superior to the Western version because it was more tolerant than exclusionary; it did not require people to choose between communal identities in order to be good citizens. Additionally, this version of secularism was better in the Indian context, since it was informed by the Indian historical experience with a multiplicity of religions and institutional structures. European secularism emerged as a means of dealing with the conflicts which marked the modern religious experience in that context, and a forced importation of those principles into Indian law would probably have done more harm than good.

I'm no longer sure that I was right then. While it is incredible that the Indian version of secularism worked for as long as it did in the decades following Independence, the increased communalization of the public sphere seems to have rendered inclusive secularism a pipe-dream. Part of this may be explained by the ascension to power of the Hindu right, but I'm not sure that paints the whole picture. Firstly, the Hindu right has co-existed with the secular parties in India's political mainstream for a good while now. It's ideas have always been there, so why have they achieved salience only in the past 20 years? Secondly, the Hindu right's meteoric rise to political dominance on the backs of the Hindutva agenda is symptomatic of a greater willingness of the public to buy into their nightmare-peddling. The right didn't create its audience, the audience existed before they came to power. What, then, explains the greater sanguinity of the majority of the Indian population towards religious fragmentation and division in the last few years? Why have the Godhras and the Ayodhyas happened on our watch, rather than in the lives of the first generation of independent Indians?

This is obviously too huge a question to answer in a blog post. An entire book would perhaps be insufficient. I would, however, like to suggest one for the drift away from inclusive secularism towards an increased toleration for communalism in the public space. This draws on some of Pratap Bhanu Mehta's arguments in his brilliant Burdens of Democracy. The peculiar nature of the Indian constitutional system is that it tries to impose liberal institutions and political principles on what is still quite a feudal social structure. The moves to provide representative equality, exemplified by the burgeoning movement for reservations, does enfranchise previously repressed minorities. However, mere enfranchisement does not lead to a more inclusive, egalitarian form of government. What it does, instead, is create a more diverse political elite, which retains many characteristics of the previous regime. Politics in India still remains an effort to grab as much power and patronage one can for oneself (and one's immediate associates), it's just that the Mayawatis and the Mulayams are now as capable of corruption as the Gandhis and the Patnaiks of the past. This communalized race for public resources has an important effect on how people perceive themselves. One's conception of an Indian is no longer an important part of one's identity; rather, one regards oneself more in terms of how one is recognized by the State. It is more important, as a result, if I am a Brahmin, or a Dalit, a Muslim or a Hindu, because my interaction with the State depends on which of these categories I fall into. The line from group-based affirmative action to group-based political disintegration is quite easy to draw.

Now, this is not a post about caste. I use caste politics to make a point which would apply just as much to communal politics. A feudal state with a representative political elite is just as likely to reinforce communal disintegration as casteist fragmentation in political and social relations. This is because a caste- and religion-based political system is incapable of existing without reinforcing some set of prejudices. In Indian politics, therefore, there is no political independent of extant social relations; one cannot regard oneself as an Indian citizen without immediately also regarding onself as a Hindu/Muslim and Dalit/Brahmin (regional politics implies that parochial considerations play a large role here too. Asking what is good of India is likely to be answered with a response motivated by a perception of what is good for Bengal/Kerala/Northeast etc). Perhaps the integrated secularism preferred by the first set of Indian political leaders was destined to failure. A more robust secularism, which keeps religion out of the political sphere at all costs, might have led to a more robust nationalism in a time where the political elites were more representative of the population as large. I can't make the claim that this would have helped move India away from feudalism towards a more modern system of government, but it would have acted as a strong check on the influence of certain community-based ties on national government.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

A Failure of 'Democracy'?

Foreign policy 'experts' have been predicting the death of the Pakistani state for a few years now. While their ideological motivations may have been somewhat suspect, recent events seem to suggest that the facts are catching with the prophecy.

Exhibit A: The breathtakingly audacious attack on the Sri Lankan cricket team. In the heart of Lahore, amidst what were considered unusually strong security measures for such an event.

Exhibit B: The Pakistani government's response: blaming India.

Exhibit C: The Pakistani military suspending operations in Swat, a region bordering Afghanistan and virtually independent of government control. Initial reports seem to suggest increased Taliban control over the area.

Exhibit D: Pakistan is facing a severe financial crisis, inspite of availing of an IMF-administered multi-billion dollar aid package in November, 2008. If the US doesn't come through on its promised aid package, the economy is likely to collapse. Note the package comes with terms attached: none of the money promised is going directly to the government, it is going only to USAID-supervised projects. This seems to suggest worldwide suspicion of the effectiveness of the Pakistani state machinery.

Exhibit E: The complete breakdown of institutional integrity in Pakistan, as exemplified by the recent Supreme Court decision banning Nawaz Sharif and his brother from holding public office, and the subsequent dismissal of the provincial government in Punjab by President Zardari.

There are many more such incidents which shed doubt on the effectiveness of Pakistan's democratically elected political establishment, but these should suffice to make the point. Has the State in Pakistan finally failed?

I want to end on a provocative note. Sections of the international media greeted the end of Musharraf's rule with joy, relief and great hope. However, as New America Foundation President and veteran journalist Steve Coll points out in a recent New Yorker essay, South Asia's chances for peace will probably never be as good as they were under the General. With his departure, a ramshackle civilian administration has been besieged with challenges at every step, and has found itself hopelessly unprepared. Perhaps there's a lesson to be learned in this: that democracy itself (defined here as a system where the government is elected by the people, and nothing else) is an insufficient good. Without civic institutions and independent constitutional mechanisms strong enough to ensure the nurturing of a democratic culture, the mere fact of representative government is useless in resolving the problems which face a country emerging out of authoritarian rule. Ruthless corrupt tyrants are just as likely to emerge through elections as they are through coups, putsches or revolutions. This is especially so in countries which have no experience with constitutional government. Democracy isn't just a function of the ballot, it is a mode of political life. It is a form of political organization where citizens can exercise a check on the operation of their governments through independent institutions, like courts, the press, watchdog organisations; not just by pulling a level or punching a card every 5 years.

Perhaps, then, democracy isn't good for Pakistan. Perhaps military rule with limited provincial elections, a small but dedicated activist element, a robustly free English language press, and a moderately independent judiciary is what it needs right now. Till such time as peace comes to visit the region, and the seeds of democratic sentiment take root, perhaps authoritarian rule is the least worst option.

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