Democracy beyond the right to vote

IT is unfortunate that neither the people nor those who hold public offices are aware of the wider definitions of maladministration and corruption. It is necessary that they be acquainted with them. It is also necessary to evolve a suitable, prompt, and effective mechanism to deal with complaints of this nature. This will go a long way in curing our public institutions of inefficiency and abuse of power: With these words ends the second chapter of Justice P B Sawant’s fact-finding report.

The 12-page chapter -- Corruption and Maladministration in Public Institutions -- in the 372-page inquiry report is a scathing critique of the present day socio-economic and political democracy vis-à-vis social activism. The chapter records certain vital observations on the country’s democratic polity, the scope of corruption, citizens’ responsibilities, and the need for people to go beyond the right to vote. The Oxford English dictionary explains the adjective “corrupt” as dishonest, accepting bribes, immoral, wicked or decaying (individual). Corruption, says Justice Sawant, is only one type of maladministration. He calls misadministration a mix of negligence, the lack of supervision, neglect of grievances and complaints, carelessness, waste and inefficiency, besides corruption.

There are certain observations on politicians. "It appears that for the last few decades now, a tribe has been growing fast -- it looks upon public office as a source of pelf and power... Some of them have become bold enough to not only defy the law, but also to make it a norm of their public life. Unless this arrogance of power is checked in its track, the disease may spread and devour the rule of law itself."

Justice Sawant observes that the country's democratic polity has deepened class cracks. The rulers appear disinterested in concepts of social and economic democracy, and instead are perpetuating social and economic inequalities, which make suitable foundation for their survival, Justice Sawant says. He underlines the fact that the onus of reducing inequalities and their social consequences lies on the civil society.

Here Justice Sawant makes vital observations about citizens’ role in democracy. The existing framework of political democracy hardly confers any right on citizens beyond the right to vote and to contest elections. He further observes that in the absence of social and economic democracy, even the rights to elect and get elected remain on paper for most people. With multiplying social and economic inequalities, the right to vote itself may be manipulated, while the right to contest elections has become the preserve of a wealthy few.

Justice Sawant takes serious note of the all-life pervasive chalta hai attitude. There is a pernicious theory that has been doing the rounds for the past few years: it says that corruption needs to be condoned to some extent because elections involve huge expenditure. Justice Sawant describes this notion as “perverse and dangerous” and “legally and morally indefensible”.

Participating in elections is not the end of citizens’ role in democracy. People must realize that they cannot and should not expect anything in return for voting for a particular person, apart from what they may share with others as citizens. Justice Sawant feels that this would go a long way towards making the country's public life "clean and safe" for democracy.

Justice Sawant says that citizens definitely can play a role in democratic governance that goes beyond franchise. He therefore calls on citizens to embark on constructive activities, with or without government support to improve the quality of social life. Agitational means too are fine, he says offering a word of caution to activists. He lays down certain norms for agitations. They have to be peaceful and legal, and must not allow agitators to become extra-constitutional centres of power. Justice Sawant does not mince his words when he says that when social power is used irresponsibly or to subvert constitutional authority, it is hardly distinguishable from terror.

When I talked to Justice Sawant for a Sunday interview a few days back, he was emphatic that I read the chapter. “You should read it,” he then had told me. When I did, I remembered about the 50 or more per cent of Puneites who chose to stay at home while the rest of the nation voted for first the Parliament, and then and a few months later, the State Assembly. Then I thought of motorists who jump signals and break traffic rules and try to bribe their way out of fines. They are all convinced that no change is possible. And choose to remain oblivious to unacceptable social ills.
(First published in The Maharashtra Herald on Aril 7, 2005)

The many beloved faces of the Krishna...and now this

Drenched. Soaked. Dripping. Wet. Floods. Deluge. Isolated. Rescue. Discharge. Cusecs... I’ve hardly used any other words these past 72 hours. Sitting on the third floor of my newspaper’s Sangli office, I’m trying to surface from the waters engulfing me. The first question I ask my friend is how can I get out of this city. Normally a man of great wit, he fumbles for an answer, makes a couple of calls on his mobile, and tells me, “It's difficult.”

He wears a big question mark on his face when I tell him that I would like Kolhapur to be my next destination. His face tells me that this is too much to ask for. I have much to thank for. I am now thinking from the relative safety of the third floor, even though the building itself is marooned. Yesterday around noon, I was standing in the chest-deep waters of the Krishna, holding a bar attached to a submerged paan shop. It was still pouring. Actually, it hardly ever stopped.

A young boy was peering out of the window of his flooded home and in front of us was the raging Krishna. Mud-red, and mad. The paan shop I was clinging to was the last tangible sign of human existence. I always remember the Krishna with fascination. The Krishna at its origin; one of the five rivers originating from the undulating Western Ghat hills. The serene Krishna I experienced from the ghats at Menavali village. Then, the temples on its banks at Wai. One of the temples is dedicated to the river itself, a sign of the reverence people feel for its bounty. Here the river becomes Krishnabai, a close relative. Krishnabaicha Utsav, the Krishna festival, is a significant event in Wai’s cultural life. Yet, this is where the Krishna picks up its first bit of pollution - at the exposed rocky river bed where it crosses the Bangalore highway.

Then there is the Krishna cutting a serpentine swathe through the soothing green of cash crops seen from the heights of Sagareshwar hill. The Krishna here emerges as a vital catalyst for the region’s economy. The Krishna at Sangli is another phenomenon. Then there is the wide expanse of the Krishna waters below Almatti.

Yet, the Krishna in front of me now is just a massive flow of water, taking away everything. People, homes, cattle, everything. I think of the people who I just saw embarking from a small wooden boat. Sujata Todkar, a young college student, was helping her old grandmother out of the floods. There was a baby, who, I was told, had been running a fever for two days. These simple, rustic people are devastated. But they are fighting. “Have you had your lunch?” a young villager asks me solicitously as we both walk from neck-deep waters into knee-deep waters. “It’s the Krishna,” I tell myself.

(First published in The Maharashtra Herald on August 4, 2005)

We study science and still keep dates with babas, bribe gods

THE dance of death atop the Mandhardev Hill last week must have made many revisit the notion of theism. Some 400 human lives were lost at the abode of the hill deity, and for many, the name Mandhardev henceforth would spell loss and agony. Kalubai kopli (Goddess Kalubai is angry), rationalize simple believers. The wiser folks who visited Mandhardev last week put the disaster down to inefficient security and fair management. A probe was ordered, compensation announced and safety measures declared. I have my doubts that the probe will touch upon the psyche of those who throng such gatherings. Especially since politicians choose religion as their most valued vehicle.

Mandhardev may turn out to be a gory manifestation of what happens when blind traditions mix with pseudo sciences. Novelist Thomas Hardy had this theory of having “a full look at the worst” while assessing life. Writers like John Bowker insist that the same is certainly necessary for God. This is so since so much folly, wickedness and exploitation swirl around what people make of God, says Bowker in his book, God -- A Brief History.

The story of mankind shows there has never been a human society of which God has not been a part, usually a controlling and creative part. That is true even of those societies that set out to be deliberately secular. We too are not an exception, even though we have a strong tradition of social reformers, from medieval saint-poets to towering 20th century social icons like Dr Babasaheb Ambedkar. Each one of these has, in his or her pursuit of an ideal value system, lamented the exploitation of faith by unscrupulous elements and attempted to expose the futility of certain traditions, social or religious. Yet, we, the people, have managed to icon-ise even these great men. Their teachings are used occasionally by orators, may be on their birth and death anniversaries, or while making long speeches. Once used, they can easily be forgotten.
I often feel that the kind of support these rationalist movements garner actually ends up defeating the great souls who fought social ills all their lives. Look at the examples. Mahatma Jyotiba Phule, Vitthal Ramji Shinde, Gopal Ganesh Agarkar, Chattrapati Shahu Maharaj, Sayajirao Gaekwad and Dr Ambedkar. Contrary to the medieval tradition of devotional literature, the writings of Maharashtrian poet-saints show great concern about prevailing social conditions. Egalitarians, they not just preached universal love and compassion, but also questioned the monopoly of a few over knowledge. They flayed the privileges embodied in the caste hierarchy and analyzed critically the religious practices that divided people.

Centuries before modern-day reformists, Tukaram refurbished for us the concept of rationalism through his scathing criticism of traditions and blind beliefs. Unlike Europe, we have always lived in a polity where religions and religious fiefdoms remained married to political powers. We got modern sciences packaged with alien rule; hence we got accustomed to the usage of science rather than process of science. Consequently, even though we study science as a discipline, many of us also keep dates with babas, bapus and maas. The standard argument is that science and spirituality are two different things. So all around us we can see this unique mix -- people who are rationalists and fatalists at the same time.

For a child, the learning process begins at home. Educators and society in general are the two other factors that contribute to the learning process. None of these three systems instill the scientific temperament in individuals. So we have educated urban youth queuing up outside temples. And we also have illiterate villagers sacrificing animals to appease local deities. Bizarre as it may be, both have the same mindset. (And so do those who bribe government officials to get their work done faster, or by skirting the procedures.)

Superstitions that uneducated, underprivileged rural folks believe in and that the educated city dwellers follow are only as different as the texture of the clothes they wear. An educated city dweller’s superstitions might seem to be less crude, that is all. Economic development therefore needs to go hand in hand with rationalism, the spirit of inquisitiveness and egalitarian human values.

(First published in The Maharashtra Herald on February 3, 2005)

Tales from the dark side of Killari quake

NO parties tomorrow. At least not for me, I’m trying to tell my friends. I’m training myself to usher in 2005 with a new hope as the grief of sev­eral unknown faces stares at me from the images of a terrible tragedy unfolding across the eastern coast. I don’t know what difference it would make if a few individuals didn’t party. Still, I don't want to go gaga to ring in the New Year.

The Sunday tsunami that has ravaged South Asia, including India, takes me back to 9/30, 93. Killari. 6.4 on Richter scale. Official records say that 86 villages in eastern Marathwada were wiped off the face of the earth. Killari then, the seismologists told us, was India’s worst earthquake since her Independence. The Government put the toll around 10,000. I visited Killari and a few other villages like Sastur and Talni thrice after that. Every visit underlined the ravaging facts of life on those who were spared by the Mother Earth’s outburst.

The Killari quake changed the geography of eastern Marathwada overnight. More importantly, it battered the people's psyche. There are numerous stories -- of those who did not survive the quake, and those who are still living with the scars of the trag­edy fresh on their minds. Life obviously didn’t wait for them. They were dragged along and forced to make a new begin­ning, yet adjusting with post-quake life was a bundle of pain for each of them.

I have a few distinct memories of Killari. Two young sisters who were away at their mama’s place when the quake destroyed everyone and every­thing back home. It was easy to read their bewildered faces, yet it was very difficult to fathom their minds. Both had stepped out as part of a family full of life, and a week later the unemotional system had required them to return to a dead heap of rubble.

During one of my trips, I met a young boy, an engineering diploma holder, who took me to the ruins which once was his village. Walking towards the village temple, a broken yet very well kept man­sion-like structure caught my attention. What’s that, I asked my ruins-guide. That was my house, the boy said without batting his eyelid. The next bit of infor­mation was even more disturbing. The boy told me he visits his “home” every alternate day and keeps it clean. He then showed me a few masks of Gauris and idols of Ganapatis that were retrieved while clearing the debris. Those life­less idols kept under a temple tree had witnessed ten seasons since they were unearthed.

There was a widow who was staying with her 11-year old daughter. The young girl was a few months old when the ca­lamity struck the region. She remained buried along with her mother under the debris for more than six hours. Her ma-in-law did not allow rescue workers to pull her out since this young lady was “guilty” of bearing a girlchild. Now she wants her daughter to grow to be someone really “big”. Fighting with her own family, she is now the secretary of a village self-help group, and now makes speeches even before the govern­ment officials.

Every time I listen to quake-hit people, I find a common thread -- the psychologi­cal trauma. The fear is still there. People were physically rehabilitated. They got money and new houses though they were hardly keen on living in those matchbox structures. But hardly anything was done to heal the injuries the quake had inflicted on people's minds. Hundreds of these quake-hit people still prefer to sleep outside their houses. Even a decade after the quake. They still have not overcome their fear of stones. The newly seismically strengthened concrete hous­es suddenly change into monuments of fear once the sun goes down on Killari or any of the rehabilitated villages.

The Maharashtra Emergency Earth­quake Rehabilitation Programme manual published sometime in 1994 had acknowledged the sweeping fear in peo­ple's minds. The situation still remains unchanged. One among every third survivor suffers from a psychological disorder, says another report. Many still suffer depression. This inevitably had resulted in alcoholism and other addic­tions. There were instances of pseudo-pregnancies. As every tragedy inevitably spells more miseries for women, Killari too has several issues to sort out.

Why Killari alone, psychological devastation is the flip side of a process called development. Be it an irrigation dam, or a road. Prosperity is hardly shared with the people who are uprooted for “a common good”. Their lives are thrown to the winds, literally.

The world around me now is talk­ing about absence of an early warning systems, efficacy of India's disaster management plans, and new coastal regulations, yet I would like the world to hear a feeble voice calling out to respect the tenderness of the human mind and give the wisdom to start afresh. Happy New Year!

(First published in The Maharashtra Herald on December 30, 2004)

Let us wash our hands...

UN General Secretary Koffi Annan a few weeks ago expressed fears about the ever-wid­ening rift between political priorities and genuine human needs. Isn’t that true? There is no iota of doubt that the priorities of politi­cal leaders never match mine, or for that matter, yours.

The same news item speaks of a Ke­nyan journalist blaming Indian industrialists for exploiting pan-African nations. He alleged that they (the industrialists) bend rules, abuse environment and do not value la­bour. He was apparently referring to industrialists of Indian origin in his country and other African countries. Both these statements, by Koffi Annan and by the unnamed Kenyan scribe, came during the ongoing Global Water, Sanitation and Hygiene for All (WASH) Forum, currently underway in a city called Dakar, in distant Senegal.

The Forum retold the world the stark truth that every 15 seconds, a child dies as a result of diseases related to unsafe drinking water and inadequate sanita­tion. More disheartening facts were reiterated in Dakar last Monday when the Global Forum was formally inaugurated. An estimated 2.6 billion people do not have decent sanitation facilities. The UN Secretary General put forth a formula to prevent deaths caused by liv­ing in insanitary conditions and reverse the situation. We need to improve on the progress we have made to date, working simultaneously on water and sanitation, We also need to make the wider effort to alleviate the crushing poverty and ill-health suffered by so many of Indians.

The Dakar meet has highlighted certain vital issues, which are visible in our own backyards too. Look at our own Mutha River. A troop of kayakers recently went on a river-pilgrimage from Alandi to Pandharpur. The post-excur­sion report of the troop tells us a horrify­ing truth -- that not a single cubic inch of water in the Indrayani or the Bhima River is safe for man or cattle. And we are all responsible for the situation.

The UN has launched an effort to achieve its Millennium Development Goals by 2015. It has also declared the decade between year 2005 and 2015 as the International Decade for Action. And theme for the decade is “Water for Life.”

Annan stresses that cooperation at the international level to achieve the desired goals could only be achieved through working together at the local and national levels -- with communities, local authorities and national governing structures "committed and fully involved in making sure that real actions are tak­ing place in their midst".

Sir Richard Jolly, who heads the Water Supply and Sanitation Collaborative Council, recommends seven critical steps to ensure acceleration of action towards the goals of water, sanitation and hygiene. To begin with there is a need for all countries to put sufficient resources in their government budgets. The second crucial step is women's empowerment and the strengthening of their influence in all matters relating to water and sanitation systems. Then come catalytic commitments from aid donors, mobilization of school systems with children and youth as agents of change, search for new partnerships and coalitions, and yardsticks with clear objectives to measure success indicators with ongoing monitoring and evaluation of human impacts.

I spent the last week in Pench Tiger Reserve, the home of wolf boy Mowgli in Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book. The one thing that struck me about tribal Karma­jhari was cleanliness. I remembered Karmajhari when I was reading comments made by Vanessa Tobin, the UNICEF director for water and sanitation, who is attending the Global Forum. She wants a real global drive to promote sanitation and good hygiene. She also underlines the need for low technology and low-cost options in the field of public hygiene.

Form our entire ritual obsession with cleanliness, we, in India, live in remark­ably unsanitary conditions. Good sanita­tion involves a whole lot of issues. For instance, it means greater availability of hand washing facilities for people. This is a challenge especially in rural areas of developing countries, which face water shortage. According to Tobin, "Commu­nities are universally receptive because they know (better sanitation) can only benefit their children's health, but there is resistance within the development agenda on sanitation."

This has been a vital aspect since wa­ter-borne diseases such as cholera thrive under poor sanitary conditions in urban and rural environments where people have limited access to clean water for cooking or even for washing their hands. British medical journal Lancet reports that some 40 per cent of all diarrheal ill­nesses, which kill an estimated 2,000 chil­dren daily, can be wiped out if sanitation, including personal hygiene, is improved. What we is need is some simple intervention. Teach people to wash their hands after using the toilet and before eating. And then teach them to wash their hands off dispassionate policy makers. After all it is a question of public health.

(Excerpted from an article first published in The Maharashtra Herald on December 2, 2004)