Public memory is usually short. Many people are squirming at the reigning political rhetoric. Everyone and their uncle in top political echelons is being called a ‘chor’ (thief). So the dirt-poor nationals of a friendly neighbouring country, mostly economic refugees, can’t complain about being called ‘termites’, eating away our food and resources, who need to be ‘chun chun ke...’ identified, thrown out. (Phraseology reminiscent of a famous dialogue from Sholay.)
But those good people overcome with moral dismay at all this sublime talk have forgotten the past. Even Nehru was not spared of ugly name-calling, nor was Indira Gandhi or Rajiv. Sardar Patel and Shastri left the world before they had to face elections, that perhaps saved them. Atal Bihari Vajpayee too escaped public fusillades (those were restricted to whispers, in the grand Indian tradition). But political graffiti, nowadays disallowed by the Election Commission, was always scathing. (Those who grew up reading those had no escape from concluding that the entire political firmament was peopled by monsters and demons!)
Not that the Rafale deal is not deserving of public attention; or the issue of illegal immigrants. But the legitimacy of both tends to get lost with this mode of engagement. It’s unproductive, perhaps even counterproductive. Rather than leading us to answers, they offer us a cheap substitute for answers. The below-the-belt burlesque creates its own sense of fulfilment. Till we go cast our votes. But it’s like preaching to the choir: most people tend to vote along pre-set lines. So these harsh noises that fill the air are targeted only at that small, mystical entity, the floating voter presumed to hold the casting vote. Still, this dominates and shapes the atmosphere.
Instead of these obfuscating clouds of sulfuric words, can we have attempts at clarity? At breaking down complex foreign deals for the public? Will Rahul Gandhi, instead of calling the PM names, help us know why a private company with a dismal track record was chosen over a public enterprise with a proven (even if once tardy) one? Why a contract for 126 fighter aircraft was scaled down to 36? The actual price differential? Maybe some compromise for reasons beyond defence? Or were there legitimate reasons, budget constraints, external bilateral pressures? Is it not preferable that both sides arrive at a common minimum acceptance of basic facts and then zero in on the contentious parts?
Alas, we may never know the basic facts. Even if there’s a CAG report, or protracted litigation, the result will never satisfy opponents caught in eternal combat. The arraigned protagonist will keep up a facade of infinite denial. The split in credulity caused by the ugly rhetoric would have coloured perceptions so much that a verdict will never bring closure. This is not cynicism, just a historically borne-out fact. Ours is an oral culture. Yarns will still be spun. And poisoned barbs thrown.
Bangladesh I&B Minister Hasanul Haq Inu seems to know this. Asked by an anchor to react to the ‘termite’ jibe, he refused and called it unfortunate “election rhetoric” not worth bothering about. Bangladesh would rather go by the sober statement of Home Minister Rajnath Singh (“no one is getting deported”) than caustic slurs from the head of his party. Of course, India’s envoy in Dhaka ran to assuage ‘hurt’ feelings. And happily, External Affairs Minister Sushma Swaraj was seen in a photo-op with the Bangladesh premier at the UN.
Is illegal immigration the real issue now? Is it happening on a fearsome scale, as suggested? Yes and no. Illegal immigration can be bothersome for any country if it leads to permanent residency. It can eventually create tensions with local communities, and in a democracy political parties can’t overlook that. In Assam, politics has been shaped (and embittered) by it for decades. In Bengal, there’s no such reactions on the ground. If Parliament records are anything to go by, there’s no quantifiable data, no established linkages to law and order.
Diversionary politics then? Yes, of course. A casual look at one’s pocket is enough to mark out the real issue. What better empirical evidence than household budgets in a shambles? People can see that they have no money to save. The sharp dip in the bank balance each time a vehicle has to be refuelled is a tactile fact. It can bring alive even abstract things like the falling rupee.
Economists say we are caught in a vicious cycle of high-interest rates, inflation, unemployment, high import costs, and a concomitant collapse of small-scale industry and stagnation in manufacturing. One look at our banking sector could jolt even Kumbhakarna from his slumber or Vishwamitra from his penance! The latest to join the sick brigade is IL&FS: its debt figures could make a Vidarbha farmer’s head reel. Experts fear the stock market is losing it, in anticipation of IL&FS rolling over and dying. Also brace for the inevitable flight of foreign capital: if you hadn’t noticed, the Fed just upped its rates on Wednesday.
Also, the bankruptcy code has caught up with 78 big companies, nearly two dozen of them face dissolution. Over 180 are behind schedule in repaying mammoth loans. Is this all the doing of the Modi government? No, the NPAs have been piling up for a while now.
End of the day, Nirav Modi, Mehul Choksi, Vijay Mallya... they are small symptoms of a deeper malaise.
This is not even counting the farmer distress. Or the collapsing civic infrastructure. Foreign investment? Going by Thursday’s development, the country may instead get a Ram mandir. But will it bring a Ram rajya is the moot point.
Santwana Bhattacharya
Political Editor, The New Indian Express
Email: santwana@newindianexpress.com