Abstract
Harsh Mander’s Looking Away is a perceptive commentary on the current state of Indian society, economy and political developments. It is a moving account of the ‘invisible’ people, the pervasive discrimination, injustices, prejudices they suffer, their vulnerabilities, humanism amidst struggles, strategies of survival and persistence of hope even with disheartening losing battles. It is the most scathing critique of a prospering middle class, already socialised in caste- and class-intertwined inequalities, with its conspicuous consumption, its contemptuous indifference to the world around it, hostility to any redistributive policies, elitist social values and support of Right-wing politics.
The paperback is also a powerful narrative of the most disturbing drift in Indian politics towards communal, majoritarian and militarist fundamentalisms, more pronouncedly by the Modi-led government, the wide ranging insecurities it has unleashed against minorities and the fragility of the constitutional order and democratic institutions to render protection to them. Above all, it most succinctly captures the impact of the shift to a market economy manifested in the increasing normalisation of inequality and poverty, the replacement of social justice by the creation of a market-friendly environment catering to the interests of big business as the focus of good governance and the marketisation of society where market relations, incentives and values dominate all aspects of life. The book is also a statement of the author’s own convictions, political philosophy as it were, outlining his views on wide-ranging social, economic and political issues of our time and his vision of a good individual, a good society and a good polity.
The title of the book is drawn from a quote of Martin Luther King Jr (p. 362), ‘Never, never be afraid to do what is right. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our souls when we look away.’ The book consists of small essays on diverse social and economic issues and the recent political events. It is broadly divided into three sections, one dealing with ‘Many Exiles of the Poor’; the second on the ‘Legitimization of the Prejudice’ and the third on the ‘Imperative of Public Compassion,’ an advocacy for kind-heartedness in individual and social behaviour. The last section broadly brings out the author’s own ideological position and the intellectual roots from which it is derived.
The book is essentially a portrayal of the middle class in India, the source of its economic elites, the tiny 12 per cent which has benefitted from the market economy and is its greatest support base. This portrayal emerges from live stories and dissection of issues, and combines information and investigation with passion and compassion. It carries the long introduction ‘In the Feeble Light’ which is an analytical account of India as it exists today and the directions in which it is moving, illuminating in the process the issues emerging from it and discussed in the three sections.
The two issues which agitate the author most and are extensively covered in the book in different contexts are those of pervasive inequality and intolerance of diversity in society. The increasing inequalities have generated an astounding lack of concern in the prosperous and powerful people, for extensive and widespread levels of human suffering reflected in poverty, destitution and degradation. This is compounded by what the author terms as the politics of ‘indifference’ which is reflected in its denial and, worse, unwillingness to eradicate it. The second feature is the deep-seated prejudice against minority groups in society, particularly Muslims. This is reflected in the active societal hostility towards and widespread discrimination against them. With market fundamentalism and growing appeal for Right-wing politics, this antagonism towards minorities becomes a lethal combination. These two characteristics of Indian society, typically reflected in its middle class, colour public discourse, social choices, public policies and political action and have enormously grave implications for social stability and survival of democracy. Addressing them is the most formidable challenge faced by the country.
Deeply disturbed about the recent political change resulting in the ascendency of a Right-wing political formation, the National Democratic Alliance (NDA), in power with Modi as its head, the author sees this development as a triumph of three fundamentalisms—market, communal and militarist—which he offered during elections and presumes to have got an endorsement for from the people. This has produced a convergence of Right-wing economics, majoritarian politics and militarist foreign policy. The vast section of the rural poor and the marginalised has lost out in this politics. But the author is optimistic that ideas of social justice, equality and solidarity will eventually prevail with an alternative paradigm of economy responsive to their interests.
The most striking feature of current thinking both in society and the state is that poverty, inequality and associated social abuse are seen as normal features of society. This has led to the poor being rendered invisible, and a culture of denial of the horrendous exploitative practices they are subjected to. This breeds indifference towards their eradication. The state’s apathy is reflected in its underestimation of poverty; an extremely low level of purchasing power as its definitional base; a lack of prioritisation for its expeditious eradication and an inadequate allocation of resources for the purpose; hostility to social spending, stigmatisation of destitution and the acceptance of dual standards for the rich and poor. The poor have faded away not only from the mental horizon of the prosperous and the affluent class, but also from the focus of the structures of governance, institutions of democracy and the media. This all-round apathy has bred despair in the poor and the marginalised groups leaving them with no hope for a better life. This is very evident in the negative attitude of this class towards street children, child and bonded labour, domestic workers, beggars, slum dwellers, homeless persons, farmers’ suicides, widely prevalent hunger and malnutrition, the lack of access to health care, and its opposition to the food security law, subsidised social services and expansion of social security.
The removal of entrenched inequalities despite their instrumentality in reducing poverty has never been seriously pursued by the Indian state as a political or economic goal. While reduction in inequalities, arising out of uneven distribution of income and wealth, did figure as one of the declared goals of development in the First Five-year Plan, it was soon given up as impractical, both on political and economic grounds. Economically, differential rewards were considered necessary to recompense skills and stimulate efforts and enterprise. In fact, conventional wisdom which converged with official thinking was that redistribution might dislocate production and obstruct the process of growth which would hurt the goal of improving living standards. Political considerations outweighed even economic ones. Strong opposition from the urban rich, emerging industrial entrepreneurs and the rural landed class was apprehended in case of any meaningful redistribution. The support of the land owning class was crucial as a majority of legislators belonged to it, wielded effective power and contributed to the party funds for contesting elections. The rural and urban poor, being unorganised, had no comparable political clout (Vaidyanathan, 1984). This explains the dismal performance in the area of land reforms and labour laws. Thus, even in a welfare economy and in the heyday of socialist thinking of the Nehru era, there existed no political will to eliminate or even significantly reduce inequality.
With the onset of the neo-liberal economy, this goal has disappeared from the political and economic agenda altogether. In this economy, market is the determinant of economic decisions. The state has to facilitate this process. The investment pattern and technological choices in a market-driven economy are not guided by any social consideration of equity, but for the maximisation of profit and individual gain. The pursuit of inequality removal in the conceptual frame of this economy is extremely detrimental to growth, as it stifles talent, disincentivises hard work and discourages initiative, imagination and ambition. In fact, inequality is considered to be a necessary condition for fast growth. Committed to the growth fundamentalism, the state does not want this growth to be hampered under any circumstances irrespective of its social cost. The logic of growth-centrism and its conflict with attempts at inequality reduction is asserted more fiercely in the current economy than in the earlier phase. In this phase, therefore, inequality increases even faster because it is driven by capital which is to be attracted by giving tax concessions, subsidies and so on.
The potential for redistribution through social expenditure targeted in favour of the poor is also reduced because, with a low tax base, the state is left with even lesser public resources to undertake it. Rather, social expenditure is termed as wasteful as it raises fiscal deficit. The resources should be better spent on infrastructure development which would stimulate growth. The clamour is for subsidising investment and not expenditure. Besides, the defining tenet of this economy is the reduced role of the state in the provision of social goods—health, education, social security, as the state is considered inefficient in resource-allocation and use, and incompetent in the delivery of services. As a result, income-inequality combined with deprivation of subsidised social goods severely undermines equality of opportunity, leading to an increasingly unbridgeable gap between the rich and poor.
This pattern of growth cannot generate in those who benefit from it any empathy or feeling of guilt for those who are left behind. Rather, it strengthens the belief in the winners that their prosperity is on account of their talent and effort and is, therefore, well deserved. They attribute the poverty and suffering of the losers to their own laziness, an unwillingness to work and the social ills they are afflicted with. There is no counteracting narrative from the state to erase this thinking. The winners have a strong influence on decision-making and are, therefore, able to extract concessions for themselves but are hostile to social expenditure as an aid to alleviate poverty. This attitude of the middle class cannot be changed or reversed unless the structures of inequalities (caste and class) which create unequal opportunities and, therefore, unequal rewards are effectively dismantled by the state with active mobilisation of the poor and the marginalised. This cannot happen by an appeal to the conscience, kind-heartedness or generosity of this prospering middle class or through persuasive engagement with it or its occasional exposure to the reality of the world of the poor.
The prejudice against Muslims constitutes the other dominant feature of the ideology of the middle class which the author terms as ‘bigotry without apology’. Traceable to the pre-independence rhetoric of communal mobilisation resulting in the partition of India, it has been reinforced by the global ‘war on terror’. This prejudice paints a devilish picture of Muslims. They are viewed as being sympathetic to violence, ferociously intolerant and regressive towards women. This prejudice progressively transforms into hate speech against them, their social and economic boycott and geographical and social segregation, with the intended objective of forcing them to get used to fear and subjugation. This prejudice results in discrimination/exclusion in access to public goods and even in the market place. A more accentuated form of it is organised violence against them. Hindutva ascendency in politics, under the current political regime, has emboldened hostile rhetoric and acts of intimidation and violence against them. The prejudice is entrenched both in government structures as well as in the majority community in society. This has created disillusionment and despair in Muslims and a feeling of being reduced to second class citizens.
In the recent past, Christians have also been targeted through violent assaults on priests, rape of nuns, desecration of churches and reconversion to Hinduism. Sikhs became victims of this prejudice after the assassination of Indira Gandhi, leading to the 1984 riots. Muslims have received the worst treatment among all minorities in independent India. Riots are engineered against them; they fail to get protection from the state’s law and order machinery and no action is taken on the enquiry reports that follow the riots. There is a systematic subversion of justice and negligible compensation to the victims. They are not even allowed to return to their homes after the violence has ceased. The security apparatus is particularly hostile to them, manifested in the incarceration of a large number of Muslim youth in terror cases and harassment and criminal profiling of Muslims in general. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) which spearheads the anti-Muslim tirade has also blocked any effort to extend development measures to ameliorate their economic conditions and has fiercely opposed any institutional arrangement to check the biased conduct of police machinery in cases of communal violence and investigation of cases.
The antagonism of a society dominated by Hindus against religious minorities, Muslims primarily, though historically rooted in colonial policies and governance, has been systematically generated in persons from the majority community by Hindutva outfits. The virus of anti-Muslim feeling is injected by the growing number of shakhas of RSS which have recently spread all over the country. It is naively assumed by the government and secularists that most of the Hindus socialised in a syncretic culture and fraternal relationships of long standing would be immune to this propaganda. This stands totally belied. There is no comparable force or organisation to counteract this vicious propaganda. No political party in the country has any programme of social education of people, particularly Hindus, against this subversive activity. The Communist Party which had a strong political education programme for their cadres for party work could provide an antidote to this divisive propaganda, at least in the limited area of their political influence. But this programme, too, is not much in evidence now (perhaps for lack of resources—human and material). There is also no social organisation of standing and reach doing this either.
The state has abdicated its responsibility in addressing the insecurity and underdevelopment of Muslims in multiple ways. It has failed to create an institutional mechanism for systematic refutation of disinformation against minority communities, curb communal propaganda, educate people about the syncretic nature of Indian society and take swift and effective criminal action against hate speech and provocative behaviour. It has also failed to prevent communal riots and, much worse, to deliver justice to riot victims and ensure their rehabilitation where riots have occurred. It has also failed to cleanse its police force of communal bias and take exemplary action against officials found guilty in reports of commissions of enquiry. It has failed to address the social boycott of Muslims by Hindus; their ghettoisation and widespread discrimination against them in the delivery of services, credit, labour employment, housing market and admissions to non-government schools and so on. It has also failed to ensure an improvement in the economic condition of Muslims through targeted programmes, in political participation through enhancement of their representation in legislature and political institutions, and a share in governance through recruitment to public services. It has failed to put in place mechanisms to ensure that Muslims are not unfairly targeted by security agencies in their counterterror operations, by creating an institutional mechanism to review cases of those incarcerated and compensating those who are acquitted in terror cases.
The Congress and Congress-dominated United Progressive Alliance regime have ruled most of the seven decades after independence. They had ample opportunity to deliver in these matters. But they allowed themselves to be trapped, hostage to Right-wing accusations of ‘appeasement’ and have shown a lack of courage in addressing upfront, injustices to Muslims. They have succumbed to the BJP strategy of paralysing them into inaction on Muslim problems for fear of losing the political support of Hindus. With the NDA in power, communal forces have become more aggressive as there is no counteracting political force to take them on. Muslims, therefore, are left at the mercy of the dominant Hindu community which wants them to live on their terms. This is not merely a middle class problem but a much larger social problem and a sad commentary on the character and ethos of Indian politics. It is imperative that Muslims, Christians and other minority groups are not left to fight the Hindutva onslaught alone, and are supported by liberal and progressive elements in the majority community. Secular forces have to be mobilised against the progressive delegitimisation of constitutional values through attempts at Hinduisation of the polity.
The third section offers a blueprint for change in India. The author considers the role of the middle class crucial in bringing about this change though state commitment is most vital in this effort as it alone can deliver redistributive justice. This includes the eradication of poverty and inequality, ensuring a set of minimum entitlements below which no human should be allowed to fall, the elimination of discrimination and exclusion and the delivery of justice in the cases of organised violence. Combating prejudice and the proactive assertion of secularism, egalitarian compassion, empathy for those who suffer, sharing one’s prosperity with those who are not so fortunate, forgiveness instead of revenge in post-violence situations without giving up the search for justice, need to be pursued at an individual and societal level. As for the battle against prejudice and tradition, the beginning has to be made at an individual level within the domestic space.
But how will the change come about? It is evident that the market-driven economy is responsible for aggravating both poverty and inequality. But there is no major political party at present in the country which is opposed to this economic pattern. They have convinced themselves that investment would deliver growth and employment which would eliminate poverty and eventually reduce inequality. The untenability of this logic has been amply proved during the performance of the economy in the last two decades, the evidence of which is contained in the book itself. Yet, no major political party is thinking in terms of an alternative paradigm of economic growth which may not yield high rates of growth, create world class infrastructure and provide services comparable to those available in the developed countries of the West, but may be more equitable and sustainable, provide dignified and durable employment to all and essential social services—education, health and social security as public goods. Rather, under pressure to attract capital, the state is even destroying existing employment, diluting/curtailing rights won by the people after a long struggle and withdrawing from state-funded social services, the evidence for which has been provided in the book. Such is the clout of capital in governance that the election manifestos of political parties and commitments made to the electorates are ignored after assuming power, and primacy is given to ensuring that nothing is done which inhibits investors from bringing in their capital for accelerating growth. What is, therefore, required is a massive political mobilisation against the current political economy so that the agenda of millions of poor and the marginalised gains centrality rather than the aspirations of the tiny ‘middle class’. What needs to be discussed is how such a mobilisation can be accomplished given the widespread discontent that exists today, and is transformed into a political force demanding structural change.
The elitist attitude of the middle class reflected in its indifference to poverty, exploitation and degrading inequalities is the direct result of the vigorous pursuit of the market economy since the 1990s. Let there be no mistake. An economy driven by the market would inevitably produce a society reflecting market values. It is naive to think that society can be insulated from economic forces. An economy which incentivises accumulation of wealth, promotes unrestrained consumption, thrives on competition and values maximisation of individual gain can neither generate compassion nor fellow feeling or empathy for the poor and the weak. It would only produce self-centric individuals’ intent on the pursuit of their interests, who attribute their success to their individual efforts and become blind to the unfair advantages accruing to them from the existing unequal distribution of resources and opportunities which have contributed to the outcome of their efforts. Values emerge from a given social and economic environment. A market-driven economy does not generate a social environment conducive to the cultivation of co-operation, generosity, kind-heartedness, concern for the poor, fellow feeling, sharing and caring. Similarly, individuals who are socialised in the culture of the caste-based hierarchical social order would never be able to see the oppression they inflict on Dalits leave alone promoting change of this arrangement and helping Dalits overcome their disabilities. They would continue to be hostile to any measure that seeks to eliminate this dominance. To generate egalitarian compassion, the entrenched caste structure has to be dismantled. This cannot be done by appealing to the heart. In the seven decades since independence, caste dominance has mutated and consolidated and higher castes have violently resisted/subverted even small measures of social justice with the active connivance of governance structures which are also dominated by them. Strong and sustained political commitment, targeted redistributive measures in favour of the Dalits, Adivasis and other marginalised groups along with their massive and continuing social mobilisation as a supportive force, reforms to make governance responsive and willingness to share power are required to usher in change, none of which has existed in any regime so far.
On the vexed question of the legitimacy of violence, the author is firmly Gandhian in his approach, believing that means are as important as the ends, and that a just society cannot be built by resorting to violence. He, therefore, condemns the viciousness of state security operations and vigilante groups supported by them, as well as the attacks of Maoists on security forces, where they are locked in conflict with the state. He feels that neither side will win this war by bloodshed. What would work to gain the trust of tribals, is by reaching out to them and delivering social justice and development, which the state is not doing.
The issue relating to the use of violence is a complex one which cannot be grasped by positing it against non-violence. It also cannot be raised as a stand-alone and a moral issue in the violence and counter-violence that features the central Indian heartland. Human beings by nature are peace-loving and averse to violence simply because the absence of violence is necessary for an orderly social existence. Therefore, as a general proposition, the occurrence of violence is disturbing to them. There is no disagreement on the general antipathy to violence because human life is precious. Any loss of life resulting from the action of any agency is a cause of concern and should be prevented. To this extent, the author’s aversion to such violence, whether by Maoists or by state agencies and vigilante groups, has considerable force and appeal. But the problem does not end here; it only begins.
It is only when you proceed to prevent violence that the scrutiny of its nature, context and socio-material basis, which gives rise to and sustains it, becomes important. Violence is a socially produced phenomenon. Therefore, the social context of violence has to be located. In the context of the Maoist movement, this location lies in the injustices, inequalities, oppression and exploitation of people, conceptually described as structural violence, which is generally ‘backed, condoned or connived at by the state’ (Singh, 2008) with no relief to the victims. Violence is, therefore, bound to occur in the course of efforts by victims to escape from the tensions generated by this situation. Occurrence of violence in such contexts is a wake-up call to the state to deliver its social justice commitments and eliminate violence of the existing structures of power. The book itself brings out the failure of the state to deliver justice against this structural violence, which is why political movements, first peaceful and later with violent underpinnings, emerge and continue to re-emerge even after they are subdued by the use of force.
Therefore, taking a moral and absolutist position against violence in such situations defies historical experience and will end up strengthening violence of the established order. The question to be raised is why do movements with violent underpinnings arise? These movements are essentially political in nature and revolve around certain grievances and measures for their redressal, which they want the state to concede and resort to violence when the state ignores them and suppresses their movement. The response to such political movements should be political intervention by way of engaging their leaders in dialogue and negotiation rather than suppression of the movement and counter-violence. The latter is a delegitimisation of politics, as well as of democracy. The political response, however, does not imply that the state should not take action strictly within the ambit of law against acts of violence of the movement attracting its provisions. But prevention of violence and restoration of peace should essentially be a political task and not a law and order one. Legal action against a movement’s violence should only constitute a small part of the political strategy. In the context of the Maoist movement, the state has relied primarily on a security-centric response overwhelmingly directed towards its suppression through armed action and the liquidation of its leaders and supporters. Even though it has been recognised that the movement has arisen due to unaddressed grievances and lack of good governance, nothing has been delivered on this front. This approach leads to a spiral of violence and counter-violence with no winners, but only adds to the suffering of the people and their alienation.
Notwithstanding the contextual appreciation of violence referred to above, the violence of movements needs to be subjected to critical scrutiny in terms of whether it contributes to the achievement of its political goals. Violence should be condemned and disapproved of, after an evaluation of the given situation and looking into factors impinging on it; if it fails to meet this test, it is because such violence is counterproductive. The movements also have to be extremely self-critical of their actions if they wish to retain the support of the people and sympathies of socially-conscious people present in larger society and advance their cause (Singh, 2008).
This focus of critical enquiry and evaluation, however, should not be confined to the violence of political movements. It should, with greater justification, extend to the violence of the state which is far more extensive than the violence which it responds to. This is because state violence has political legitimacy and legal sanction, unlike that of movements. Further, this violence is backed by draconian laws which have made security agencies virtually unaccountable and is supplemented by the violence of vigilante groups sponsored by it. State violence, therefore, renders constitutional safeguards inapplicable with victims having no recourse to seeking justice against it, unlike the violence inflicted by the movements. Such a scrutiny of state violence is in the interest of the state too, because revengeful action in response to the violent acts committed by a movement can erode the moral high ground of the state, generate a loss of faith amongst people who are normally covered under the rule of law and system of justice in the area, and end up alienating affected people even more from the state.
The question that should be asked is whether the enormity of state violence in the Maoist areas has advanced the cause of weaning people away from the movement and restoring their faith in the system. Evidently, it has not, as the author has argued, because the grievances which triggered the movement still remain unaddressed. The delivery of social justice and development is nowhere in sight. The dispossession of people from their land for its transfer to companies for development projects continues. Rather, the condition of people has demonstrably worsened and their alienation from the government increased. The people in affected areas are further victimised by the failure of the state to provide even ordinary amenities and services because of the imperatives of security operations. It is sad to see elected representatives endorse security-centric responses rather than exert pressure for political solutions. The political alternative of engaging the movement leaders in a dialogue is virtually shut due to the insistence by the government that Maoists should first lay down arms. In such a situation, rather than condemning violence on moral grounds, we should, while subjecting violence on either side to critical enquiry and evaluation, in terms of their stated goals, mobilise public opinion to put pressure on the state for dialogue and negotiation with the movement, and accommodation of their grievances to end the suffering of people. If the state agrees to this course of action, similar pressure could be exerted on the movement, if there is any reluctance on its part due to past experiences.
These comments have been offered to carry the debate further on issues raised in the book from where the author has left off and do not take away the merit of his work and the value of the sincerity and the force of his stand. Looking Away is a valiant, gentle and persuasive attempt to rekindle humanism in society, particularly the middle class, in the face of an ugly social reality that has been highlighted and remind the state of its duty to change it. The book is eminently readable with its simple, engaging and racy style interspersed with live stories and anecdotes and clarity of message. It is unputdownable once you start reading it. It deserves to reach a wide-ranging readership (not confined only to those who know English) particularly students, in the hope that it will force them to think about the world around them in a way different from the wisdom they have received.