The last image of 2012 is protesters storming the bastion of Delhi,
outraged at the brutal rape of a young girl and the culture of violence
against women. This outburst by the educated middle class, many of them
young women, was spontaneous as much as it was leaderless. But as we
move to the next year, we need to think about the response of the
government to this protest and others. We need to understand if the
Indian state has any clue about what is going on under its nose—and
feet.
In this case, on the first day people had gathered, peacefully but
resolutely, to register their anger. The educated middle class was
innocent, and arrogant, enough to believe it should be allowed to march
to the grand presidential palace, a symbol of power and compassion in
their eyes. But the government reacted with horror. It used water
cannons and tear gas shells to quell the protest. The next day, the
numbers swelled, social networks got busy calling for a gathering and
sadness for the young victim turned into anger against the callous
state. Still not all was lost.
Even the next day, protesters’ congregation was peaceful in the
beginning. But as it happens in such situations, something (or some
miscreants) provoked the crowd. It became ugly. Now the tear gas shells
rained on them; television screens flashed visuals of police brutality
as they beat protesters, including young women, with batons.
In all this, there was absolute silence from top politicians. Nobody
walked into the crowd, held a megaphone and shared the grief of the
people. Nobody came out to explain that the government would indeed take
the required action to fast track conviction of the vile rapists and
beef up security across the city; that it would make its people feel
safe. Instead, politicians and bureaucrats hid behind their many-layered
security walls. The irony was there for all to see. The disgust grew.
To make amends, UPA chairperson Sonia Gandhi and her heir Rahul
Gandhi decided to meet a few “representatives” to convince them of
government’s intent. But the fact is that this “movement”—for want of
another word—has no representatives. It is leaderless. It is just a
collection of people brought together by a common anger. They needed to
talk to all, not some.
The home minister—to whom the capital city’s police reports—added
insult to injury by arguing that if he had “spoken to this motley crowd,
next time there would be demands for government to speak to Maoist
insurgents”, equating outraged ordinary urban citizens with violent
secessionists. Clearly, nothing speaks more of the government being
completely clueless, hapless and out of touch with its own people.
This was not the first and last time it happened in the past year.
Take the protest against the Kudankulam nuclear power plant. As the
plant came close to commissioning, protesters blockaded the plant and
held vigils and rallies to say that they believe the plant is a hazard
to their life and livelihood as fishers. In this case, unlike the
middle-class Delhi protesters, it is fisherfolk who are agitating. They
have seen what happened in Fukushima on their television screens.
Whether right or wrong, these ordinary Indians are convinced of the
dangers of nuclear power. They need answers. They need assurance from
their leaders.
But instead what they got is first disdain—what do the illiterate
know about complicated nuclear affairs. Then contempt—scientists sent to
examine safety concerns were top pro-nuclear scientists. Then
rejection—government dismissed the movement as funded by foreign money.
When all this did not work, the response was brutal police action. No
leader had the credibility to speak to their own people to explain the
hazards and the steps taken to safeguard the plant. Even today, as the
nuclear plant is days away from going critical, the protests continue to
simmer.
But there is much more to these protests. We must fear we are losing
the plot. The fact is that each such movement reflects concerns—valid,
exaggerated or emotional—that need to be addressed. And the failure in
doing so will eat up our insides, corrode the very being of the country.
On the one hand, the establishment of governance is crumbling. It has
inadequate ability to research, to enquire and, therefore, to assure
that it will protect the interests of the weakest. Our regulatory
institutions have been dismembered and disabled so they have no
credibility. They cannot prepare independent safety assessments. They
cannot drive any change to build confidence that all is well.
On the other hand, our political leadership is losing its ability to
face the very people who elect it to power. They cannot stand up and
talk. And every time they do not reach out to the people, they get even
more cocooned and even more isolated. And every time, people lose faith
in the political establishment—urban middle classes embrace fascism and
the poor arm against the state. It is a bad portent.
(Sunita Narain)
------------------------------------------------------ कोई भी मूल्य एवं संस्कृति तब तक जीवित नहीं रह सकती जब तक वह आचरण में नहीं है.
