Books

Deep democratic tradition

The Argumentative Indian by Amartya Sen; Penguin Group; Price: Rs.650 ; 409 pp

In popular parlance, the adjective argumentative is usually a pejorative, seldom a compliment and Indians have a global reputation for this perceived failing. The popular view that argumentativeness is a national weakness, is turned on its head by Sen, who boldly declares this perceived failing an inherited asset. According to him this dialogic tradition prepared the ground for post-independence India’s resilient democratic system which has confounded western political and socio-economic pundits. Indeed way back in 1967, the then highly respected and authoritative The Times, London had confidently forecast that the general election of that year would be the last ever held in India. Since then some seven more general elections have been held in which the world’s largest electorate has repeatedly elected and ousted a plethora of governments at the Centre and in the states.

Drawing on a broad canvas, Sen attributes democracy’s firm roots in Indian soil to this inherited cultural tradition of dialogue, discourse and accommodation of diverse viewpoints. In the very first chapter, he notes that the great epic Mahabharata (which incorporates the Bhagvad Gita) is seven times longer than Homer’s Iliad and The Odyssey combined because the Indian epic not only accommodates, but gives plenty of room for the discussion of differing ideologies and points of view. In particular it details in extenso the philosophical eve-of-battle debate between Lord Krishna and the mighty warrior prince Arjuna on the issue of discharging one’s duty without regard to consequences, and the contradictory viewpoint that one must foresee the consequences of a particular course of action. Though in the epic Krishna’s argument prevails and is accepted by Arjuna at that time, according to Sen, even to this day "Arjuna’s contrary arguments are not really vanquished no matter what the ‘message’ of the Bhagvad Gita is meant to be". In his opinion "these arguments remain thoroughly relevant in the contemporary world".

This tradition of reasoned debate, writes Sen, was also encouraged by two of ancient India’s greatest emperors — Ashoka and Akbar. According to the author, Ashoka "tried to codify and propagate what must have been the earliest formulations of rules for public discussion", and two thousand years later in the 16th century, the Mughal Emperor Akbar espoused the "pursuit of reason" in public dialogues as the panacea for resolving inter-religious arguments and promoting social harmony. In short, The Argumentative Indian provides a wealth of cultural, historical and philosophical evidence in support of Sen’s thesis that democratic tradition anchored in reasoned public debate, rules of discourse etc much preceded the imposition of British rule in India in the mid-19th century.

But while the learned professor makes more than a persuasive case that democracy Indian style is organic to the soil rather than a hothouse plant imported into India, he is far from complacent about its nurturance. The transparent attempt of political parties of the far right to interpret Hinduism as an orthodoxy and to negate its tolerant and rational character is repeatedly condemned by Sen in these essays. Moreover in an essay titled ‘Tryst with destiny’ the author makes a studied evaluation of the record of democratic India in discharging its Nehruvian pledge made on the midnight hour on August 14, 1947 towards "the ending of poverty, and ignorance and disease and inequality of opportunity". The celebrated Nobel laureate’s verdict: while in the practice of democracy "there are reasons for satisfaction", in the second field of social progress and equity there has been "measurable underperformance", particularly educational progress which he describes as "remarkably uneven".

While there is much wisdom in this absorbing collection of essays penned by an individual who is as well schooled in the classic texts of ancient India as he is in the western social sciences, its great value is the thorough exploration of the argument that the subcontinent has a history of reasoned debate, respect for differing viewpoints and the rule of reason. Against this favourable historical backdrop, how does one explain the transformation of India’s Parliament and chambers of deliberation into raucous brawling houses and theatres of the absurd?

The learned professor who is perhaps too easily satisfied with the practice of democracy, doesn’t attempt to answer this question though he implies that the sanctimonious right-wing RSS-VHP- BJP conspiracy is to blame. But here this reviewer must register a timid contradiction. The true enemies of reasoned debate and rational discourse are India’s communist parties which self-admittedly harboured contempt for bourgeois democracy for several decades (even if not currently) and avidly preached and practised class hatred. They and their fellow travelling leftists are guilty of importing the worst practices of militant trade unionism, gherao and walk-outs into Parliament and in the state legislative assemblies. And gradually this contagion has infected all political parties across the ideological spectrum and changed the grammar of Indian politics bringing Parliament into disrepute.

This is an incisive compilation of easy-to-read essays, which should be mandatory reading for teachers and academics in particular. It makes a strong case for the practice of democracy typified by discussion, orderly debate and socially enriching discourse and successfully repudiates the widely held view that parliamentary democracy is a foreign import into post-independence India. As such it offers hope that the nation’s wayward politicians, intellectuals, trade unionists and citizens in general will see the light and restore law, order and sanity within the debating chambers of this wounded republic.

Street life saga

Sadak Chhaap by Meher Pestonji; Penguin Books; Price: Rs.250; 190 pp

Sadak Chhaap (‘Mark of the Street’) is a work of fiction based on the lives of street children in Mumbai. Its protagonist is ten-year-old Rahul, a typical street kid living on a railway platform. A sprightly lad, he has run away from a village which he himself doesn’t remember. But unlike his peers who are resigned to life on the street Rahul is determined to rise up and move out.

Written by Meher Pestonji, a freelance journalist and social worker, whose earlier works include Mixed Marriage and Other Parsi Stories, Pervez: A Novel, and Piano for Sale, a play, Sadak Chhaap is the outcome of her voluntary work with street children in Mumbai.

The narrative begins on a railway platform, where Rahul, feasting on a stolen mango spots a small package on a neighbouring bench. In the hope of chancing upon some food, clothes or a blanket, he opens the package to discover a half-burnt baby with ants crawling all over her face. He approaches Aparna who heads a shelter, to rescue the child.

The child is taken to hospital for treatment and is saved in the nick of time. Rahul christens her Kajol after his favourite Bollywood movie star. Soon Kajol is moved to an orphanage in Vashi, a distant suburb of Mumbai and in appreciation of his good turn, Rahul is offered the job of gardener in the orphanage. He seems to be moving up in life, but typically the management of the institution demands a stiff price in terms of total obedience and conformity. For the small misdemeanour of sneaking out to watch a movie and meeting his old friends of the street, he is found out and sacked from his job. Kajol is given away in adoption and Rahul is denied the privilege of meeting her.

Without shelter and jobless again, Rahul shifts base to the streets near the Gateway of India which offer new challenges. To survive on these mean streets he begins running drugs and becomes a male prostitute at the age of twelve. On one such sexual assignment Rahul is badly abused by a firang (foreign) sexual pervert, Greg. This traumatic experience plunges him into further despair for which drugs are the only pain killers. But his friends at the shelter rescue him and enroll him for detox sessions.

Pestonji weaves a fast-paced and absorbing narrative which is a window looking out on the brutal streets of Mumbai, where millions of impoverished children are left to fend for themselves. Living in the shadows of the city’s plush 5-star hotels where gastronomic excess and effete luxury are a way of life, for these Fagin’s children hunger is a constant companion.

Sadak Chhaap is a simply told tale whose subtext is an outcry against the neglect and abuse of India’s huge population of street children. But its major infirmity is that it is recounted as a breathless narrative of episodes told in quick succession. There is a conspicuous dearth of analysis of the causative factors behind the proliferation of street children. Surely Aparna who heads the shelter would have some macro level explanation? To accept the status quo as the natural order suggests excessive pessimism, if not amorality.