Connect with us

Opinion

What Lies Behind the Silence?

Published

on

IST


By Ajay Gudavarthy

Prime Minister Narendra Modi has maintained stoic silence over the most pressing issues that have been debated in the last few weeks and this has remained his style for most part of his tenure. Most political analysts and media discussions have repeatedly made appeals and read this as Modi losing control of his government and things getting out of control. Yet, Modi continues to be silent, from Rafale deal, to #MeToo to the recent crisis in the CBI. We are inching closer to the election season but Narendra Modi is in no hurry to change his style of working. Why is it so? Is there any possibility whereby he seems to make a reading of how his silence will work not against him but in his favour?

A possible contrarian explanation of this silence could be found in somewhat a new kind of corporatisation of governance under Modi. Presenting (read elevating) himself as an elite brand that is not easily accessible. Further, he remains somewhat mystical, so do his capabilities that keep his electorate guessing rather than arrive at any clear decision. Most of the decisions of Modi during his current tenure have been geared towards either immediate electoral gain in the various elections his party faced or as a preparation for a second term. This strategy of silence is in preparation for his next term. Partially it is an attempt to draw dividends from growing cynicism of the electorate, more the pessimism and graver the sense of despondency, more the possibility of people looking towards him to resolve the crisis, bypassing social divides and institutional niceties.

There has been a systematic attempt to push all institutions to the verge of crisis, starting with the judiciary, institutions of higher education and various investigative agencies, to lending tacit consent to street violence. If one observes closely, most appointments made to higher positions have been of those who are either mediocre or under scanner for one crime or the other. Apart from these individuals remaining vulnerable, it creates a palpable crisis in institutional functioning. The pervasive sense of chaos, crisis and gloom that gripped us as a collective in the last few years, alongside growing narratives of impending dangers and fear of external and internal enemies, makes the dependence on a decisive leader all the more graver.

The opposition with divided leadership and unsure agenda looks weaker and incapable. Social crisis marked by growing street violence to institutional crisis marked by what is depicted as infighting in the judiciary and now the CBI makes Modi’s posturing all that more credible. Silence is a modality of maintaining his moral superiority, when he is above these bickering and busy in nation building the rest are sinking into the quicksand of moral degradation, corruption, infighting and senseless street violence. The political analysts seem to have missed a point or two in seeing in the emergent situation a possibility of it working exclusively against the electoral prospects of Narendra Modi and his party. More the chaos, more have been the appeals in media for Modi to rescue us from this growing crisis, but Modi has maintained epic silence that has mythological renderings tied to it.

The other end of the spectrum of this not so-coincidental rise of generic chaos is the narrative of hope. Silence of Modi also augments hope of he doing something dramatic to set things right. Demonetisation was only the first step he took to demonstrate as a test case of his ability to take such decisions and therefore the things to come. His untiring trips abroad, more than any other Prime Minister in the past, add to the mysticism of hope. The results of these trips will be there to see in times to come, in terms of global investments, India’ role in global politics and the enhanced image of India in the world.

In more concrete terms, this mysticism of hope is tied to the narrative of ‘New India’ and ‘Vision 2022’. The ‘2022’ does not start with his purported new term nor does it end with it. It is sought to be made to look real and tangible and nothing to do with electoral campaign by projecting a year that lies in between. The foundation laid now will see results in the next term. Therefore, Modi has left no stone unturned in claiming he will wipe out poverty, provide housing for everyone, and more by 2022. The sanctity of that can be felt in claims of successfully electrifying all villages, including the ‘last village’ (meaning distant and remote) in Manipur. These are only the initial moments of success, even as Modis capabilities remain shrouded in mystery.

Further, Modi has maintained near-complete distance from the media, in spite of growing criticism of his lack of accountability. But the underlying narrative is that of Modi being directly accountable to ‘the people’ in bypassing the media. Democratic principles of accountability and neutrality have sought to be turned on their head, when on both occasions of the crisis in Judiciary and the CBI, BJP claimed non-interference in their non-responsiveness.

It is also a way of then building a mass consent for Modi to more directly intervene, since the principles of non-interference disallow him to resolve the crisis; a way of setting impatience for action and laying the grounds for something more eventful and dramatic, which could be anything from waging a war to taking stern action against ‘internal enemies’ for which the dice has been cast with the narrative of ‘urban Naxal’.

The dialectic between despair and hope, crisis and resolution, chaos and order, institutions and ‘direct action’, patience and street violence, suffocation and relief is playing itself out in Indian democracy with silence as a mediating modality that symbolises constraints on action. A silence that is inviting ‘the people’ to decode in ways they deem fit in their own ways that is in turn played out as violence with impunity. What has been noted is the difference of this silence by choice from that of silence under compulsion of former prime minister Manmohan Singh but what we cannot afford to miss is its difference with the way Gandhi celebrated and attempted to institutionalise the practice of silence as a way of building inner resources building one’s ‘soul force’ as a precondition to pursue common good. The current silence has replaced inner self with external aggression. Gandhi had warned us and as on many occasions he proved to be ahead of his times and by the time we realise it we always seem to be behind his times.
(Ajay Gudavarthy is associate professor, Centre for Political Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. Courtesy: thewire.in)


Advertisement
Loading...
Comments

Opinion

Ilhan, Rashida and Rahul

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Jawed Naqvi

THE young politician shows up at Mount Kailash in Tibet, and proclaims his youthful Hindu-ness in lighter sportswear than the freezing weather warrants. He then resumes his frenzied temple-hopping, balancing it with an occasional visit to a Muslim shrine. This is yet another election season in India.

Rahul Gandhi is again competing with the Hindu revivalist Bharatiya Janata Party on its turf. He claims to be the better Hindu of the two. While the young Indian leader was performing the religious trapeze to woo India’s strangely insecure majority, Ilhan Omar and Rashida Tlaib became the first Muslim women to be elected to the US House of Representatives. One unapologetically proclaims justice for Palestine as a key pursuit, and the other, a hijab-clad Somalian-American, works her heart out to provide more accessible education to less-privileged children across ethnic barriers.

When everybody had declared America to be a right-wing haven, a spitting image of Modi’s India, the country pulled a rabbit out of its hat and gave President Trump a few useful thoughts to ruminate on. Similar examples abound from secular democracies elsewhere, not excluding the fact of a Muslim home secretary in the UK. If Trump stacked his politics with Islamophobia and racial innuendo, the American people, led by the white community, sent the maximum number of coloured women to their parliament in the November mid-term elections, including Omar and Tlaib. This is perhaps how tables are turned on errant adversaries in a democracy, by setting one’s own loftier agenda, and not by yielding to the follies of the opponent.

Gandhi’s display of his religion and caste mocks Indians who were looking for their own Jeremy Corbyn and Bernie Sanders in the pack. Even a Hindu variant of Kemal Ataturk — and such men and women do exist — could help rescue India from the reigning cult of religious charlatans. By allowing his party to hug symbols of a regressive appeal, Gandhi unwittingly smudged the vision of Jawaharlal Nehru and those who hitched their hopes to his liberal ideals. To be sure, the young leader still would make for a more presentable representative of what remains of a secular India.

Rahul Gandhi’s display of his religion and caste mocks Indians who were looking for their own Jeremy Corbyn and Bernie Sanders in the pack.

But India is not a baby pool of low-bar contests. Also, is Gandhi going to become an avid drinker of cow urine to garner votes, now that his party has promised to manufacture refined gau mutra as a commercial proposition? Is this what Indira Gandhi had in mind when she underscored secularism and socialism as the guiding principles of the constitution? Or would sipping the hallowed elixir embellish the scientific temper that Nehru had envisioned for the country? One was hoping Gandhi would take the cue from democracies elsewhere and weave a tapestry of pluralism and reason into the grand alliance he is cobbling together for general elections next year.

Having said that, India’s Muslims as none other are perennially counselled by their sympathisers to keep a low profile against the Hindutva onslaught and to let friendly folk do the battle on their behalf. The argument goes that Muslims give easy traction to Hindutva purposes, and any retaliation to a provocation, of which there’s no dearth today, would add grist to the reactionary mill. Had the assertion produced a worthy result, there would be reason to believe in the lore. The fear of Muslims being the red rag to the Hindutva bull should not be the ruse for their self-proclaimed supporters to feel hassled by their association with the community. A Muslim MP from Bihar and two legislators from Uttar Pradesh won important by-polls recently to defy the red-rag theory.

This is not a case for a mandatory quota for Muslims in the coming elections, far from it. The argument put simply is that the minority communities, particularly their women, often suffer in the proclaimed quest for ethnic rectitude. I would argue that Muslims generally form a perfect ballast and they improve the stability of any political party in India. In fact, their inclusion is useful not only to win elections but also to keep the promise of democracy alive with greater zeal. Saving the constitution is the stated objective of most political parties, but for India’s minorities, it is their lifeline, and they must secure it at all costs.

Put bluntly, will the parties they support stand with them when their constitutional guarantees are threatened? Let’s take the Ayodhya dispute currently being studied by the apex court. Would the Congress and its allies have the moral courage to stand by a court verdict should it favour the Muslim case? Would they stand up to the Hindutva challenge then, or should the Muslims start praying for an adverse verdict against their own petition?

Happily, this is not the dilemma for the two women who have made it to the Congress in the United States. Few are as outspoken as they are about Trump’s follies among their other urgent concerns. True, for that and more, they are abused and threatened on the net. They are trolled daily. But they have the unqualified support of the people and the party behind them to see to it that their worldview is not stifled. One thing worse than the stifling of the minorities in a democracy is to make them parrot the majoritarian point of view. Look at what happened in Pakistan. A Hindu man was elected for the first time from a general constituency to the National Assembly. That should be celebrated. But what was his battle cry? He wooed support by prescribing the death penalty for blasphemers. Likewise, in India. The Muslim author of a most adulatory book on Nehru joined the BJP. And now he seems sanguine at the daily abuses heaped on his erstwhile hero by the party’s tallest leaders. That’s not a route for Rahul Gandhi or Indian Muslims to pursue.

Continue Reading

Opinion

Why are the ‘yellow vests’ protesting in France?

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Rokhaya Diallo

For the past three weeks, France has been experiencing one of the most significant social mobilisations in its recent history, which laid bare the country’s social ills, anti-elite sentiment, growing inequalities and thirst for social justice.

It all started on November 17 when tens of thousands of people took to the streets across the country to protest against rising fuel prices.

The protesters, dubbed “Les gilets jaunes” (the yellow vests) after the high-visibility jackets they adopted as a symbol of their complaint, blocked roundabouts, burned effigies and clashed with the police. They were angry about the almost 20 percent increase in the price of diesel since the start of the year, as well as the planned fuel tax hike President Emmanuel Macron had recently announced.

While Macron said the tax was necessary to “protect the environment” and “combat climate change”, protesters claimed the decision was yet another sign that the “arrogant” and “privileged” president is out of touch with regular folk struggling to make ends meet.

The intensity of the protests quickly forced the government to make a U-turn and first suspend and later permanently shelve its plans for fuel tax increases. However, the protest movement was not only about fuel prices. It encompassed wider anger and frustration against the political establishment in general and President Macron in particular. As a result, the government’s decision to abandon fuel tax hikes failed to calm tensions.

The “yellow vests” want further concessions from the government. Their demands include a redistribution of wealth as well as the increase of salaries, pensions, social security payments and the minimum wage. Some say they will not settle for anything less than the president’s resignation.

So how did day-to-day frustrations about fuel prices and “green taxes” transform into a nation-wide protest movement attracting hundreds of thousands of people in a matter of weeks?

It all comes down to Macron’s apparent failure to connect with the people, understand their concerns and steer France away from destructive neoliberal policies.

40-year-old Macron was elected last year on pledges to change the face of French politics, create more jobs and improve lives.

On the eve of the 2017 presidential election, French voters were tired of career politicians. They wanted a different kind of leader, someone who can understand their long-rooted social and economic concerns and deliver real, practical solutions.

For the past four decades, French people have been worried about the erosion of social protections in their country. Since Francois Mitterrand’s socialist government controversially decided to impose austerity policies in 1983, successive governments have taken slow but consistent steps to dismantle the French welfare state.

All this gradually accentuated the economic concerns of the French middle and working classes and led them to be more and more suspicious of all mainstream politicians on the right and the left. They came to believe that the political elite protects the interests of the wealthy and does not care about the wellbeing of ordinary citizens.

Successfully diagnosing the public’s frustration with the political class, Macron worked hard to differentiate himself from the establishment in Paris and act as the representative of a “new world order” throughout his election campaign.

He had the youth, the energy, the positive message. He was the leader of a brand-new political party, aligned neither with the right nor the left. He appeared to be carrying no political baggage. Many viewed him as a possible saviour and did not hesitate to give him their vote.

Moreover, he was running against National Front leader Marine Le Pen. This also made him look like a “progressive saviour”. A significant portion of the French electorate was ready to vote for any moderate candidate who could stop the far right from taking power. So, they voted for Macron, even though many of them did not support his agenda completely or have faith in his ability to respond to their concerns.

As a result, Macron was elected by a landslide. However, it didn’t take long for his supporters to realise that his “reformist”, “new world” image was nothing more than an illusion.

Macron’s failure to bring about change should not have surprised anyone. Even though he seemed “young and new”, he was part of the establishment.

He had served as the minister of the economy, industry and digital affairs from 2014 to 2016 under Francois Hollande – he was in charge of implementing the former president’s infamous Labour Law reform, which caused widespread protests across the country. Before that he was a Rothschild investment banker.

Once elected, Macron showed his true colours almost immediately. He decided to amend the wealth tax – known in France as “ISF” – by narrowing it to a tax on real estate assets, rather than covering all worldwide assets over the value of 1.3m euros. This led to him being swiftly labelled the “president of the rich”.

On top of making controversial policy decisions that favoured powerful corporations and rich individuals, Macron also repeatedly demonstrated his unfamiliarity with – and at times disdain for – ordinary people struggling to survive in the country’s increasingly harsh economic environment.

In 2016 while he was the minister of economy, for example, Macron was confronted by angry trade unionists and was recorded telling one young man: “You don’t scare me with your T-shirt. The best way of paying for a suit is to work.”

In a July 2017 speech Macron said train stations were wonderful places, for there you can cross paths with both “people who succeed” (people like him) and “people who are nothing” (presumably ordinary French citizens like the rest of us).

In October of the same year he was filmed accusing disgruntled workers of preferring to stir up “chaos” rather than find jobs. “Instead of kicking up bloody chaos, some of them would be better off going to see if they can get a job over there,” he said, alluding to an aluminium factory in Ussel, a region in which employers were struggling to hire new workers.

More recently, in September this year, Macron told an unemployed man he could easily find work if only “he crossed the street”. “Everywhere I go people say to me that they are looking for staff,” the president said.

This lack of empathy coupled with business-friendly policies helped shape the French public’s perception of Macron as an arrogant, privileged politician who is a friend of the rich and the powerful.

The fuel tax that he tried to impose on people that are already feeling their economic concerns are being ignored was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

This is why the yellow vest movement is not only about fuel prices but about social justice. There is a profound discontent among ordinary people in France who see themselves as the losers in a world dominated by international elites who don’t seem to care or understand what they are going through. Macron is pursuing the exact same neoliberal agenda his predecessors pursued in the 1980’s. And just like the policies of his predecessors, his policies are hurting the poorest and helping the rich get even richer.

The protests are not rejecting climate change action

The yellow vest movement should not be seen as the public’s rejection of the green transition. The French state indeed has a responsibility to take action to combat climate change and protect the environment. But powerful companies that are primarily responsible for the pollution, and not regular citizens, should bear the brunt of this necessary revolution.

The yellow vest movement is, of course, not perfect. Some protesters were responsible for outrageous racial and homophobic attacks. Some also damaged national monuments and were violent towards police officers.

While we should not turn a blind eye to any of this, we should remember that the yellow vests movement is a reflection of the ongoing tensions in France. Almost 11 million people voted for the far right only a year ago in this country. There are some extremist elements in the French society and they were inevitably some among the protesters.

But we should not dismiss the entire movement as “extremist” because of this. The yellow vests are the French people who we never see on TV. Their despair can at times appear offensive because anger is neither polite nor sophisticated. It is disorganised, shocking and comes with emotion, which can translate into violence. The point is not to defend any of the violence that has tragically occurred, but to remember that the unrest France is currently facing came in response to other forms of violence, much more insidious and harmful: social exclusion and injustice.

Unemployment, discrimination and poverty are at the root of the daily humiliation French people feel which has now transformed into a general despondency. The French political elites will find it hard to pacify this public anger unless they commit to introducing radical changes to the way this country is governed.

Continue Reading

Opinion

The Khashoggi skeletons in America’s closet

The Kashmir Monitor

Published

on

By Azeezah Kanji

Donald Trump’s commitment to “remain[ing] a steadfast partner of Saudi Arabia,” despite the regime’s gruesome torture and murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey, is clearly symptomatic of the malignantly self-serving nature of US foreign policy, which has long propped up dictatorships and enabled atrocities around the world for the sake of profit and power.

However, many of Trump’s most vocal critics on the Saudi file show signs of an equally dangerous pathological condition: a profound historical amnesia that permits some of the most prominent proponents of the US’ own torturous and murderous policies to now parade as champions of human rights, without any apparent sense of irony.

Obama-era CIA Director John Brennan, for instance, has insisted that “the US should never turn a blind eye to this sort of inhumanity [referring to the murder of Khashoggi] … because this is a nation that remains faithful to its values” – a curiously self-righteous stance for a man who not only repeatedly turned a blind eye to the inhumanity of past and present CIA practices such as extraordinary rendition, torture, and drone assassination, but actively defended and (in the case of drone use) expanded them.

Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell decried the brutal murder of Khashoggi as “completely abhorrent to everything the United States holds dear and stands for in the world”. Yet he praised another perpetrator of abhorrent deeds, CIA “black site” torture prison manager Gina Haspel, as an “excellent choice” for Director of the CIA.

Republican senator and drone war enthusiast Lindsey Graham called Saudi’s extrajudicial killing of Khashoggi a “barbaric act which defied all civilized norms” – even while maintaining that casualties of US’ own international norm-defying extrajudicial killing programme “got what they deserved.”

The idea that the US is in a position to hold anyone to account for “barbaric acts” of extraterritorial violence defies reality. Far from serving as a model to be emulated, the American precedent exemplifies the dangers of lethal state power wielded without adequate restraint.

“If other states were to claim the broad-based authority that the United States does, to kill people anywhere, anytime, the result would be chaos,” UN Special Rapporteur on Extrajudicial, Summary or Arbitrary Executions Philip Alston presciently warned in 2010.

Among the global targets of the US’s lethal drone programme – which have included first responders at missile strike sites, mourners at funerals, and families celebrating weddings – are, allegedly, at least two media workers.

In 2017, Al Jazeera’s former Islamabad bureau chief Ahmad Zaidan and American media activist Bilal Abdul Kareem filed a lawsuit against the US government, claiming they had been placed on the government’s “disposition matrix” – although the absolute secrecy surrounding who is on the extrajudicial kill list, and why, makes it impossible to know for sure. A US court shot down Zaidan’s case but allowed Abdul Kareem’s to proceed, rendering it the first legal challenge to the drone programme to make it past the preliminary stage.

While Trump may have been the first US president to openly and explicitly declare the media “the enemy of the people,” the treatment of journalists as a hostile force has been a consistent feature of the US’s so-called “war on terror”.

The Pentagon’s 2015 Law of War Manual stated that journalists may in some instances be considered “unprivileged belligerents” (enemy fighters without the protections and privileges accorded to lawful combatants), since “reporting on military operations can be very similar to collecting intelligence or even spying” – an apparent licence to target journalists that was only revised because of a sustained outcry from media organisations.

The illegal US-led war of aggression on Iraq has been one of the deadliest wars for journalists in modern history. In its first year, it “inflict[ed] a proportionally higher number of casualties on journalists than on members of the coalition’s armed forces” according to the International Committee of the Red Cross.

At least 16 journalists and six media workers were killed directly by US fire, including several “at checkpoints or near US bases, in most cases without [the US military] accepting responsibility,” as the Guardian reported. “Often they promised to hold investigations but never released the findings.”

In addition to dealing out death to journalists with impunity, US powers also made a habit of arresting and jailing them for long periods of time without charge, including journalists working for Reuters, CBS News, and the Associated Press.

“By early January 2006, Camp Bucca, an American detention centre in southern Iraq, had become the biggest prison for journalists in the Middle East,” observed Reporters Without Borders. Journalists were also imprisoned in the detention and torture camps at Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay. Al Jazeera cameraman Sami Alhaj was held in Guantanamo for more than six years; tellingly, 125 of the 130 interrogations he was put through had nothing to do with the activities of any terror organisation but with the operations of Al Jazeera.

While US commentators have rightly called out the farcical nature of Saudi Arabia’s investigation into the death of Khashoggi, the pretence that the US government has provided anything resembling accountability for its own crimes against journalists and other civilians is equally laughable. None of the senior officials implicated in the Iraq torture scandal, for instance, have ever been prosecuted, and authorities ignored reports of abuse from human rights organisations for six months before they were publicly exposed – a fact cited by Saudi’s Foreign Minister Adel al-Jubeir in an attempt to rationalise his own country’s delayed response to Khashoggi’s disappearance.

Perversely, punishment has primarily been reserved for those who have dared to call attention to the assault on journalists, rather than those responsible for the assault itself. Chelsea Manning was incarcerated for seven years in a military prison under conditions the UN Special Rapporteur on Torture concluded violated international law, for leaking evidence of US military atrocities including video footage showing US soldiers slaughtering two Reuters journalists and several other Iraqi civilians. In 2005, CNN’s chief news executive Eason Jordan was forced to resign because he suggested on a panel discussion that coalition troops were targeting journalists in Iraq.

The popular conceit that American “values” are inherently antithetical to the torture and killing of journalists renders invisible the victims of US torture and killing policies. Propagating such myths in the name of advocating for justice for Jamal Khashoggi only serves to bury the Khashoggi-like skeletons in America’s closet further out of sight.

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Subscribe to The Kashmir Monitor via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to The Kashmir Monitor and receive notifications of new stories by email.

Join 977,509 other subscribers

Advertisement