By Neera Chandhoke
It is time to re-read the politically charged play, The House of Bernarda Alba, (1936) by Federico García Lorca. After their father’s death, five young women are forced to live in a barricaded house of mourning for eight years. The doors are latched, windows are curtained with thick black fabric, and every nook and cranny closed. The consequences of living in claustrophobic spaces without men are tragic. The sisters repeatedly attack each other in grotesque performances of frustrated desire.
Bernarda, the mother, is the poster-girl of fascism. One of her daughters dares to wear make-up, Bernarda snatches the make-up and viciously smears it on the face of the young woman. Beyond the barred room, we catch tantalising glimpses of sunlight. Within the house we encounter pitifully deformed psyches and disturbed minds. Lorca authored a formidable play. It was to be his last. Shortly after, he was murdered by fascist forces in Spain. His message remains with us, repressed sexuality is a powerful metaphor for political frustration.
Lorca proved prophetic. Open societies encourage us to accept and welcome different ideas and practices. They liberate and expand our imaginations and our commitments. When societies turn inwards, they construct barricades between themselves and the outside world.
At some point members transfer the notion of the outsider to parts of the collective self. Political subjugation carries heavy costs.
Ruled by a government that verges on authoritarianism, Indians have turned savagely on their own fellow citizens, sometimes in the name of cow-protection, and often because someone has identified A or B as a kidnapper. Sometimes individuals are attacked because they are migrant workers and therefore ‘outsiders’, and often because they are represented as ‘infiltrators’. Disorder is the order of the day, and violence is the currency of social transactions. Sane voices have to speak up.
But where will these sane voices come from? The party in power has identified and cracked down on three sites of debate and dissent, the media, civil society and the public university. Incalculable damage has been done. Public universities are accessible and affordable. They provide training in skills, but more importantly, they expose young minds to nuanced debates in the social sciences and the humanities. The objective is to fine-tune sensibilities and push back horizons, familiarise young people with the best in literature, philosophy, political science, history, sociology, aesthetics and psychology, and keep alive the spirit of critical inquiry.
That is why imaginatively designed courses in the humanities and social sciences lie at the heart of any university worth its name. They encourage students to challenge and interrogate, even as they explore the past and the present. Teachers inspire students to understand the complexities of the human condition, to know what should be done for human beings, and what should not be done to them. Above all students are introduced to categories that allow them to think, reflect, and critically engage with people, places and things.
When academics acquaint students with Indian politics through the searing prose of Shrilal Shukla’s RaagDarbari, communicate the densities of human emotions through King Lear, acquaint them with spectres of domination and the exhilarating prospect of resistance through the poetic lens of Antigone, or convey the horrors of communal conflagration through the powerful pen of Yashpal in his JhoothaSach, they do not just transmit information — they contribute to the making of knowledge. In the process, university teachers promote the notion of citizenship as solidarity with the less advantaged and warn students of the horrors of authoritarian rule that seeks to control and dominate. The idea is to produce aware and enlightened citizens’ conscious of their own power and the responsibilities of an elected government.
This is precisely why the latest avatar of capitalism in the 1990s, neoliberalism, devalued social sciences and humanities. Capitalism demands docile bodies and submissive minds. In 2010, Terry Eagleton, the celebrated literary critic, spoke of the death of universities.
Academia, he rued, has become a servant of the status quo. Can we have a university without the humanities? It would be like a bar without alcohol! If history and philosophy vanish from academic life, they may be replaced by a technical training facility or corporate research institute, he wrote. But this will not be a university in the classic sense of the term. Eagleton is perceptive. Without critical disciplines, universities are no more than teaching shops, producing so much unthinking labour for the market.
The second attack on the university has come from the current government. Shortly after they came to power in 2014, leaders of the Bharatiya Janata Party began to demonise one of the finest centres of academic excellence and enlightened debate, the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU). Ignoble attempts to subjugate the faculty and students followed. This was replicated in other Central universities by the appointment of Vice-Chancellors of questionable merit, and the elevation of storm troopers of the ruling party to faculty positions.
Now the government has decided that teaching and research have to be controlled. University administrations have ruled that faculties of Central universities will be subject to Central Civil Services (Conduct) Rules. This, it is said, is the diktat of the University Grants Commission, which is at best a funding and administrative organisation. In JNU, the decision has been adopted without regard for procedures of rule-making: the passage of a proposed policy through the Academic Council, the Executive Council and the University Court.
Starkly put, these regulations stipulate that academics cannot protest, howsoever grave be the provocation. In the academic world, invitations to join editorial boards of prestigious journals are rightly seen as a justifiable reward for academic excellence. This is now banned. Faculty members cannot criticise the policies of the government in their research work. Nor can they dare to critique a flawed foreign policy. And they cannot join political parties.
The policy strikes at the very idea of a public university that embodies the spirit of critical inquiry. Now no academic can ask her students to reflect on the shortcomings of economic policies that reproduce inequality, on social practices that foster gender and caste discrimination, on the politics of intolerance, on historical inquiry, or on cultural practices that disable rights in the name of tradition. Academic research has been reduced to court history.
It is clear that holders of power and their academic courtiers have extracted retribution and punished those who have dared to speak back to unfreedom. But in the process, the ruling party and compliant Vice-Chancellors have shot themselves in the foot. A society is known ultimately by the knowledge its universities and research centres produce, by the excellence of the faculty and by the curiosity of the students. Today, knowledge has been replaced with trite information. Mediocrity rules, and eminent academics are crudely harassed.
Above all, the order demeans reputed academics the precise way in which Bernarda, the mother in Lorca’s play, humiliated her daughter.
The difference is that now the censor board will gag analytical and insightful scholarship. Instead of strengthening the public university, which was meant to be a training ground for citizenship, the government has deliberately weakened an academic structure that has great potential to chart a route to opportunity and social justice.
A theocracy or a secular State
View from Pakistan
By Tariq Malik
Another sit in by a religious group. Another state capitulation. Time has come to make a decisive choice. In order to ensure a viable future for itself, free from the kind of internal religio-political conflict just witnessed, the state of Pakistan should either become a theocracy such as Iran or Saudi Arabia; or, alternatively, adopt a modern secular state structure that is prevalent in much of the rest of the world.
For 70 years, the westernized liberal politico-military-bureaucratic elite ruling this country has tried to have it both ways – feeding people a heavy dose of religion while carrying on state business along largely modern western lines. In our Establishment’s view, while one part of the duality – state focus on and deference to Islam – provides the disparate masses of the country with a unifying religio-national identity and ensures a limitless supply of recruits ready to fight, the other half of this oxymoronic arrangement – western institutions of governance such as parliamentary democracy and quasi-modern judicial and administrative bureaucracies – makes possible at least a modicum of western-style individual freedoms and a relatively permissive cultural space for the upper classes.
The mayhem unleashed following the Supreme Court decision to free the blasphemy-accused Aasia Bibi has brought once again into sharp relief this self-contradictory duality that has marred the idea and existence of Pakistan from its earliest days. The lockdown of the country by stick-wielding hordes of a relatively new one-issue religious pressure group, and their open ridiculing of the three most powerful men in Pakistan – the Chief of the Army Staff, the Prime Minister, and the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court – is evidence enough that the 70-year old strategy of riding the two boats simultaneously is finally dead.
I personally would not want to live in such a society, given my own life experiences and attendant biases, yet, considering the extreme levels of religiosity now on display in the land of the pure, the option of turning Pakistan into a formal theocracy such as Iran or Saudi Arabia must be given serious consideration.
In a theocratic Pakistan, women and men would be active and equal citizens while occupying separate spheres. The new judicial system need not be “blind” like the heavily procedures-driven and unsatisfactory current British-style legal system. Islamising the economy could be tricky but if Saudi Arabia and Iran can work within the global capitalist system, so can a theocratic Pakistan. Similarly, a nuclear-armed state run by Mullahs would be a hard sell but given that both our military and our religious leadership have had collusive and symbiotic relationships with the West in the past, an arrangement acceptable to all can certainly be found.
Long ago, Islamic civilization spawned great research and scholarship. Perhaps in a truly theocratic Pakistan great learning, especially of science, would go hand in hand with religious instruction and strict observance of religion.
Such a theocracy might not be to the liking of our tiny English-speaking chattering classes who spend much time worrying about the future of this country every evening while drawing inspiration from their tumblers one sip at a time. But for the masses, who have been fed a steady diet of religion for 70 years and told ad nauseam how enforcement of Islam is the panacea to all their existential ills, such a theocratic state is the only option left.
If, on the other hand, for whatever reasons, a theocratic state is not palatable for our de jure or de facto rulers, then the only other sane choice would be to have a completely secular state – the most common form of government and state in the world today. Due to our establishment’s cynical manipulation of the masses through the use of religion, secularism has been deliberately misrepresented in Pakistan. In this country, being secular is wrongly interpreted as being against Islam specifically and against religion generally.
Contrary to this widely-held perception in Pakistan, secularism, unlike, Marxism, communism, or atheism, is not against belief in or practice of religion in any way. Many highly religious people practice and advocate secularism in the public domain and believe that in this modern era of multi-cultural, religiously-diverse societies, government should be organized and run along secular lines.
That secularism is not in conflict with Islam is evident from the “pro-secularism” positions of Islamic parties of India. Maulana Arshad Madani, one of the leaders of the Jamiat-e-Ulama-e-Hind, has pleaded repeatedly for strengthening of secularism in the face of rising religious bigotry of right wing Hindu parties. Similarly, the Supreme Court of India has declared Jamat-e-Islami “an All India organisation professing political, secular and spiritual credentials with belief in the oneness of God and universal brotherhood”. In fact, secularism strengthens religion by protecting religion and the religious from governmental interference.
A secular Pakistan would, at long last, be the realization of Jinnah’s promise – “You may belong to any religion or caste or creed – that has nothing to do with the business of the State” – that he made in his August 11, 1947 speech before the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan. A secular Pakistan would, in the long run, lead to a harmonious society, as explained by Jinnah in the same speech when he said: “As you know, history shows that in England conditions, some time ago, were much worse than those prevailing in India today. The Roman Catholics and the Protestants persecuted each other….. Today, you might say with justice that Roman Catholics and Protestants do not exist; what exists now is that every man is a citizen, an equal citizen of Great Britain, and they are all members of the Nation.”
That something as toxic to Jinnah’s secular vision as the Objectives Resolution was carried in the same Assembly within a year of his death shows how quickly and meekly the nascent State of Pakistan surrendered to the very Islamic constituency which opposed its creation in the run up to the Partition. The capitulation has continued over the course of the State’s lifespan following the 1949 Objectives Resolution, the present surrender to the Rizvi Brigade being only the latest in a long litany of cynical and regrettable climb downs. If this trajectory continues in the country – a nation raised on the extolled virtues of shedding blood and sacrificing one’s life for the religious cause – a bloodbath that tears up our social and national fabric is inevitable.
It’d be easy for our guardian establishment to dismiss each of these two options presented above as “impractical”. However, what is really impractical and dishonest is this dual policy of continuously stoking religious nationalism amongst the masses while expecting at the same time that our British-style semi-dysfunctional institutions will somehow deliver us a modern, tolerant, prosperous society modelled on the present-day west. It is time to make a decision. Choose wisely, but do choose and then stay the course.
Why nations fall
By Ahmad Raza
The moral corruption of a nation causes its downfall. This is the simple historical observation that is derived from religious texts. The Quran testifies that no amount of material wealth, economic power and military might can save a morally corrupt nation from self-destruction.
In this context, there are examples from the past of mighty nations and communities that have collapsed. The story of Aad, Samud and Sodom is in the Quran as is the story of the Tribe of Israel and their killing by the pharaoh.
The Aad were a very strong nation. The Quran describes them as physically strong and tall. They developed methods of building carved houses in the mountains.
Technology and physical control made them arrogant and disobedient to Divine laws. Their cities were obliterated by a sandstorm which lasted for seven days and eight consecutive nights.
In Surah Yunus, 10:49, Allah says, “For every nation is a [specified] term. When their time has come, then they will not remain behind an hour, nor will they precede [it].” When ajal (death) of a nation is pronounced, then there is no refuge.
The downfall of unjust nations is inevitable.
The forces of ajal begin to operate when a nation exhibits three attributes: zalim, (tyrant, unjust), mujrim (criminal or prone to commit crimes) and fasiq (disobedient sinners). When a nation and its ruling elite become zalim, the countdown begins. The Arabic root of the word ‘zalim’ is ‘zulm’ which means darkness. A kind of social darkness is perpetuated through injustice and coercion. Tyranny as a norm in the social system means that a nation is a ‘dark nation’. Injustice and oppression cause the decline of unjust nations. The downfall becomes inevitable.
Resistance to tyranny can be internal or external. The Quran offers the example of ancient Egypt under the Pharoah. Powerful Egyptians enslaved the tribe of Israel. They plundered their wealth and resources and resorted to all sorts of injustice. The one notable tyranny unleashed by the Egyptians on the Tribe of Israel was massacre. They exterminated their males and kept their females to serve them as slaves. God inspired Hazrat Musa to challenge the mighty Pharaoh and his tyrant nation. According to the Quran, Musa was afraid but acted upon the Divine command. He was triumphant in liberating his nation from the unjust and tyrannical rule of the corrupt Egyptian elite.
The second attribute of the decadent nation is that they become mujrim. In the Quran (10:13), Allah says, “And We had already destroyed generations before you when they wronged, and their messengers had come to them with clear proofs, but they were not to believe. Thus do We recompense the criminal people”.
Criminal nations refuse to accept the Divine invitation to believe and uphold the truth. By rejecting Divine knowledge, these nations establish a false worldview. The Quran mentions the people of Aad, Samud, Sodom and Canaan, and several other powerful and wealthy nations who became extinct due to their falsehoods. These nations suffered from different moral and social evils.
Allah invites us to ponder over the fact that these nations cannot be traced today and one cannot sense that prosperous and powerful cities existed where ruin and wretchedness now prevail. Pomp, prosperity, technology and power cannot ensure the continued survival of nations and empires. Rather, obedience to moral law and the truth delivers a people from suffering.
The third attribute of a decadent nation is that they become fasiq. That means simply that they disobey and ridicule the boundaries of Divine laws. This disobedience is most pronounced in the affluent and wealthy class of a nation. This class indulges in all sorts of social, moral and psychological sins. They indulge in all sorts of social, moral and economic crimes with fellow members of their societies. They indulge in moral and sexual perversion. They plunder the resources of the poor. They flout the law and justice. They ‘buy’ judges and get judgements of their own choice written.
In Surah Isra, 17:16, Allah describes the state of affairs of such corrupt classes. Allah says, “And when We intend to destroy a city, We command its affluent but they defiantly disobey therein; so the word comes into effect upon it, and We destroy it with [complete] destruction.”
According to the Quran, cities and nations run by a corrupt and sinful affluent class are destined to perish. No force of skill can prevent their eventual doom. The wealthy and affluent class ridicule and disobey Divine boundaries and the legal limits prescribed by Allah’s prophets, hence inviting both natural and historical disaster. History bears testimony to the moral, economic and social corruption of the affluent classes. It is recorded by historians that empire after empire and nation after nation has fallen because of their sexual perversion, ethical decay, social and political injustices.
Fashioning potent weapons of mass distraction
By Bharat Bhushan
Unable to construct the Ram Mandir at the disputed site in Ayodhya, the ruling BJP finds itself in a quandary. Earlier, when it came to power, its excuse for not the Ram temple was that it had to follow the compulsions of “coalition dharma”, but when it gets a majority of its own it would bring in a law to facilitate the construction of the temple.
It has run a government under Prime Minister Narendra Modi at the Centre for four and a half years now. What is more, it also has a majority government in Uttar Pradesh, where Ayodhya is located. Yet it has not been able to build the Ram temple it had promised to the faithful. The reasons for its inability are many. The primary reason being that the land where the temple is to be located is disputed. The adjoining area, which is not disputed, has been acquired by the government on the orders of the Supreme Court, which has also banned any construction there.
So what does the BJP do? It shows the faithful that it is still devoted to Lord Ram and that if it cannot construct a temple at Ayodhya, it can do other things to promote his glory — by renaming Faizabad district as Ayodhya, setting a Guinness World Record by lighting over 300,000 oil lamps in Ayodhya for Diwali and building the tallest statue ever of Lord Ram in Ayodhya on the Sarayu river. This, Uttar Pradesh chief minister Yogi Adityanath has pointed out, will help people in the “darshan” (viewing) and “smaran” (remembering) of Lord Ram.
The strategy seems to be that if the party in power cannot construct the temple at the disputed site, then it can at least convert the entire district of Faizabad, now Ayodhya, into a memorial for Lord Ram.
The party is also happy that some people have objected to the renaming of Faizabad, claiming that it was the first capital of Awadh under Nawab Sadat Ali Khan-I. This allows them to please their followers by asking the rhetorical communal question: “Is their Nawab more important and bigger than our Lord Ram?” This displacement strategy, conscious and well thought out, unlike the Freudian concept, serves several political purposes. It tries to convey the commitment of the BJP to those members of its core constituency who might be getting disillusioned with it because of its inability to build the Ram temple. The renaming of the district and the promise of a Lord Ram statue is a defensive strategy to keep the flock together.
The large-scale renaming of place names in Uttar Pradesh (so far that is the only state on a renaming spree) also suggests that the party, unable to showcase its governance, is keen on proving its Hindutva credentials and to show Yogi Adityanath as a proactive chief minister.
UP is where the main battle of the 2019 general election will be fought, and the BJP must prevent the alliance of Other Backward Classes (OBCs) and dalits, represented by the Samajwadi Party and the Bahujan Samaj Party, if it wants to win. The Hindutva-laced campaign is for them too. The renaming and the Ram temple issue appeals to the common religious identity of the OBCs and dalits.
Simultaneously the BJP also addresses the stratification within caste groups by appealing to those who feel that the dominant castes (Yadavs amongst OBCs and Jatavs amongs dalits) have cornered the benefits of reservations. The BJP has tried to attract these smaller castes by its alliance with these groups such as the Kurmis (Apna Dal — Sonelal), the Rajbhars (Suheldev Bharatiya Samaj Party) or the Nishads (Rashtriya Mahan Gantantra Party). Those sub-castes which do not have a formal political party are given representation by the BJP by fielding them as candidates in various elections. It is important for the BJP to retain the loyalty of these non-Yadav OBCs and non-Jatav dalits through its renaming and Ram temple moves. Whether this strategy will trump the erosion of their social and economic position by government policies is an entirely different issue. The renaming strategy, however, is also an offensive strategy against the cultural power of the liberal intelligentsia. The more loudly they oppose the BJP’s renaming and statue-building plans in the name of cultural diversity and secularism, the more the BJP stands to benefit.
From the BJP’s point of view, their railing against its renaming spree helps the party project them as pro-minorities. By reducing the secularism of the liberal intelligentsia to nothing more than a pro-minority stand, its members can be projected as biased adjudicators of Indian public life. Indian liberal public intellectuals, therefore, need to think deeply about how to respond to this offensive strategy of the BJP before coming up with knee-jerk reactions.
If the renaming and Ram statue strategy is seen to be paying off even marginally in UP, there is every possibility of it being used to prepare the public mind for nasty communal developments as the general election nears. The large-scale gathering of the Hindu faithful for the Kumbh at Prayagraj, earlier Allahabad, in January may provide just the context for fanning the communal flames. It could provide the perfect context for the assertion of Hindu identity over their caste identity among both the OBCs and the dalits.
This will suit the BJP electorally. If there is one lesson the BJP would have learnt from the recent Karnataka byelections, it is that when the Opposition unites it will be pushed on the defensive. In those states where the BJP vote has been concentrated and where it has done exceptionally well in 2014, such as in UP, the party’s first attempt, therefore, will be to prevent the formation of an Opposition alliance. But failing that, it will attempt to divide the social base and the caste-equations of the Opposition parties. Hindutva and communal polarisation through changing place names, Ram statue politics and a Ram temple agitation are being tested as potential instruments to break the Opposition’s caste and community equations.
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