Saturday, April 11, 2020

Do I Hate Modi? A citizen's Posit


The usual refrain is, “You ignorant Modi haters, your dislike for the man blinds you, and you refuse to acknowledge the good he has done. You sickular, urban-Naxal, anti-national commies.” This comment has become so hackneyed that it glaringly reveals who is truly ignorant, if not blinded and biased.

Am I biased in my opinion of Narendra Damodardas Modi, the Prime Minister of India? Do I hate the man so much that my assumptions and opinions are prejudiced against him and his nearly six years as the country’s leader? Often, I have paused to reflect: could these critics be right? Are my opinions and comments—though a constitutionally guaranteed right—driven by hatred for the man? Do I hate him?

Heads of state often occupy unenviable positions, and as the Shakespearean lament goes, “…and in the calmest and stillest night, with all appliances and means to boot, deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down! Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

I pondered deeply, even setting aside Godhra and the Gujarat pogrom, and juxtaposed Narendra Modi with King Henry bemoaning his crown’s burdens, unable to find peace unlike even the poorest. I drew a blank. In his exalted role as the master of all he surveys, Modi, over the past six years as Prime Minister, has failed himself, the people, and the nation. One must be incorrigibly blind or utterly foolish to think otherwise.

Before explaining my stance, I asked his supporters to highlight a few of his achievements that transformed the country for the better, hoping they might sway my view. But each time, I received only invectives and even lost a long-standing friendship. Thus, I hasten to clarify my perspective as an ordinary voter who exercised his right in the past two general elections, unaffiliated with any political party.

True, I had serious reservations about Narendra Modi coming to power, and even more about him retaining it in the previous election. That aside, when he rode into New Delhi in his first term, I fervently hoped I was wrong. His symbolic gesture of genuflecting at the doors of Parliament sparked hope that I had misjudged him. I recalled how his predecessor, Indira Gandhi, treated Parliament like a juggler’s pins, rendering the cabinet and house servile, mauling the Constitution, superseding judges with pliable ones, deracinating democratic institutions, and suspending fundamental rights for 18 long months. Here was a lesser-known, controversial figure—a commoner—prostrating at the doorstep of democracy, as he put it. It was a moment to inspire hope and trust.

I thought his resounding election victory might have chastened him, prompting a call for unity, urging the nation to set aside parochial, communal, and religious intolerances, fostering camaraderie and universal brotherhood. I hoped he would end the inertia of the second UPA government, tackle corruption strangling the nation, restore confidence in the economy, and provide succour to the needy, underprivileged, and marginalised. I expected him to shun the divisive, hate-filled saffron-Hindutva ideology he wielded in Gujarat and strive to build an inclusive, rainbow nation, to paraphrase Bishop Desmond Tutu. I hoped he would uplift the underprivileged, give meaning to Dalit lives by cracking down on casteism and untouchability—still a scourge in many parts of the country—ensure tribals were treated as humans and citizens, not dispossessed, and heed scientific advice to address climate change, protecting the environment rather than ravaging it in the name of development. I believed he would honour the confidence of the youth swayed by his “sab ka sath, sab ka vikas” and “acche din” slogans, halt the disastrous slide in Kashmir, deal with Pakistan and China as a statesman, bolster underfunded health and education sectors, and uphold the scientific temper exhorted by Jawaharlal Nehru and enshrined in the Constitution’s Directive Principles.

Yet, as days, weeks, months, and years passed, Modi’s intentions became less and less curious, to borrow from Alice. As Arun Shourie famously put it, Modi’s rule is “UPA plus the cow.”

  1. It became clear we were saddled with a thespian nonpareil, thriving on theatrics, spectacles, gimmicks, and foolery—a sophist peddling falsehoods at every turn. Even his academic qualifications have become an apparent lie and a joke, much like the fantastical tales of his childhood.
  2. His ego is so immense that his sole intent is to burnish his image. His knowledge of economics is woefully inadequate, yet his conceit and hubris prevent him from admitting mistakes or surrounding himself with talent and scholarship.
  3. Indebted to crony capitalist friends who placed him in the Prime Minister’s chair, he made quid pro quo blatant.
  4. Instead of tackling corruption, he effectively legalised it through the egregious instrument of “electoral bonds.”
  5. He unleashed sectarianism, granting the Sangh Parivar carte blanche to unleash Hindutva goons on society, targeting Muslims, minorities, Dalits, and tribals, paving the way for lynchings in the name of the cow, Lord Ram, and religion. The gentle cow became a predatory symbol, with law enforcers facilitating crimes by saffron goons.
  6. Bigotry became the official religion, and daily doses of outlandish, bizarre idiocy from BJP ministers and parliamentarians became an embarrassment to common sense and the nation.
  7. The extent of fear and emasculation among the intelligentsia was evident as early as 2014, when physicians sat mutely through Modi’s speech claiming cosmetic surgery and reproductive genetics existed in ancient India, citing the mythical Karna and the elephant-headed Ganesha. Stupidity seemed seamless under his rule.
  8. The most ridiculous, quixotic, and heartless decision—demonetisation—was inflicted on the nation.
  9. The GST, a novel tax regime mooted by former Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and opposed by Modi as Gujarat’s Chief Minister, was rolled out hastily without proper planning, botching commerce and tax generation. His yearning for theatrics and a place among the nation’s founders led to a midnight Parliament session to announce it, throwing the economy into a tailspin.
  10. For the first time in independent India, global financial institutions began sceptically eyeing the statistical figures dished out by the Modi government. The country’s own Department of Statistics distanced itself from the government’s data.
  11. Lies and falsehoods became the norm, with cyber cells set up to spread innuendos and canards.
  12. The massive defence deal with France was arrogated by Modi himself, with his government stonewalling legitimate queries.
  13. Parliamentary procedures were steamrolled with scant regard for conventions and propriety.
  14. The Constitution was defenestrated with the abrogation of Article 370.
  15. Important legislation was passed as money bills to circumvent debate in the opposition-controlled Rajya Sabha.
  16. An egregious law enabling religious profiling, reminiscent of the Third Reich, was passed to identify and sequester Muslims, throwing the nation into turmoil. Modi’s unstatesmanlike remark that protesters could be identified by their dress was infamous.
  17. Institutions were systematically encroached upon and packed with ideologues; textbooks were rewritten with Hindutva narratives and mumbo jumbo.
  18. Courts and media were bought or bludgeoned into submission, and institutions of higher learning were targeted with canards. Criminals escorted by police were given free rein to attack faculty and students on campuses.
  19. Police aided rioters, allowing the capital to burn for three days while targeting Muslims.
  20. International reports and WHO warnings about Covid-19’s pandemic potential were ignored for over a month, as Modi prioritised toppling the Madhya Pradesh government and hosting Donald Trump’s visit. By then, the damage was done, and proactive measures were non-starters.
  21. Intolerance towards criticism and dissent outdid Indira Gandhi’s Emergency.
  22. Contempt for scholarship, intellect, and science was evident, with central funding for research slashed to 0.8% of GDP and funds for education and health cut.
  23. If he claims to be a democrat, why has he not faced the media? Not one candid press conference in his tenure proves his reluctance to face the truth.
  24. As a Keralite, I cannot forget how malevolently Modi finessed aid from friendly Arab nations promised to the state after the devastating floods two years ago.

Modi’s penchant for theatrics and symbolic gestures has consistently beguiled Indians over the past six years. His plea to “burn him at the stake” if demonetisation failed moved people, but they forgot his offer when it proved a monumental blunder, fraud, and crime against Indians. The drama over the Pulwama attack, where 40 soldiers perished in a high-security zone, remains a mystery like Godhra but stirred such emotion that people rallied behind him. The supposed surgical strikes across the border, evading Pakistani radars to hunt terrorists, anointed him as India’s fearless Napoleon or Lancelot. These incidents propelled him to a thumping majority, but over the bodies of thousands of farmers who ended their lives amid farm distress, 40-year-high unemployment, an economic tailspin, atrocities on Dalits, marginalisation of Muslims and minorities, dispossession of tribals, and unprecedented mutual suspicion in society.

Before the recent theatrics of clanging vessels and lighting lamps, the nationwide lockdown, announced with just four hours’ notice, led to an exodus of lakhs of migrant labourers, defeating its purpose. Modi’s penchant for drama without planning or empathy was evident. These spectacles proved clownish and disastrous, undermining physical distancing. His call for clanging and banging would have been welcome had he shown an iota of sincerity in tackling the communal hatred fanned by his party and the Sangh. I would have joined these symbolic gestures if he had uttered one effective sentence to his bhakts and Sanghi stormtroopers, stressing that unity means inclusiveness across religion, caste, and creed, and that symbolism must translate into reality. I would have volunteered had he not infamously profiled dissenters by their attire—an outrageous remark from a Prime Minister. Let him first target bigotry, regardless of religious hue, if he sincerely seeks unity. Symbolic drama is an irritating comedy and utter dishonesty when Modi has not shown one act of carrying all Indians with him.

It is not just hatred; it is detestation of what he stands for. I am offended that the Prime Minister has created more division than the British did in their imperial history. Mr Modi, there is still time to make amends and leave a legacy that allows posterity to overlook your fallibilities and see you as a statesman.

The nation has been changed forever. Even if Modi is voted out in 2024 or beyond—if elections occur—it will take years to repair the social fabric, for people to trust their neighbours, and for ethnicity, religion, and caste to become insignificant, with harmony, food, shelter, security, and a clean environment becoming existential priorities.

Sunday, April 5, 2020

The Wizard King



Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a man with a broad chest who ruled over a kingdom where the people’s lack of intelligence astonished even him. He rightly observed this to his coterie. But his subjects, blinkered in their lives, had never seen a donkey and thus could not compare themselves to the timid, foolish beast. They believed their King was clever, and they were as clever as he.

The King was as canny as a fox, though he also fancied himself smart with a high IQ. Kings from other kingdoms longed to politely remind him he was an idiot, like his subjects, but he hastened to hug and charm them upon meeting, so they refrained from candour to avoid rudeness.

The truth was stark: the King frequently appeared on national television, issuing mad decrees he claimed were for the greater common good, demanding compliance that his donkey-like subjects, the fools, gleefully obliged, eagerly awaiting more. He was a sorcerer, hypnotising his subjects, who followed him with a fervour that would make the Pied Piper of Hamelin envious. He proclaimed decrees at night, and the next day, he would wail, beating his chest, urging them to burn him at the stake if he was wrong. They forgave him, unable to bear the sight of tears in his eyes, unaware that his marble-like eyes could not produce tears. Often, he sent a decoy—some say his real old mother—to perform the same tasks he asked of his subjects, and they went wild, dancing and singing eulogies to the King and his old mother. The King spared not even his mother! How noble! In his castle, the King laughed heartily, rocking in his chair, while his donkey subjects brayed in unison, “Oh, great leader, you are the shining star, the burning sun, son of gods; you could never be wrong. You are infallible, the light, and our deliverance.”

One day, shortly before midnight, the King appeared on television, dressed in splendid silk attire with an appliquéd tapestry that, upon closer inspection, bore his name embroidered in gold thread. His snow-white mane was immaculately groomed and waxed with ancient Indian herbs, its aroma stifling even through television screens, yet perceived as fragrant incense by his hallucinating subjects in their dreamy indolence. He decreed that from midnight, he would suspend the earth’s gravity so his subjects could spread their wings, hitherto tethered by evil forces, and fly with abandon. As midnight struck, his donkey subjects flocked and jostled to leap from apartment windows, expecting to float like fairies in zero gravity. Those in hutments scampered up coconut palms to jump and fly. Such was his commanding sway over them that they gleefully leapt and flew—only to fall flat on their skulls and faces, crashing to the ground like hailstones. Their craniums, ribs, and bones snapped like twigs, yet they believed they were flying, feeling the cold wind against their faces. They were in awe, convinced they soared. The wizard King effortlessly held them under his spell, and their broken skulls, dying hearts, and aching bodies refused to accept they had not flown. They bled and bled.