Being clash conscious

It is somewhat intriguing that the same urban Indians who have shown a marked disinclination to vote during elections turn up in thousands under the scorching summer sun to participate in anti-corruption rallies. They come out on the streets in candlelit processions and rage in social networking sites.

This apparent anomaly suggests a fundamental disconnect at some level. Why large sections of the urban Indian middle class cannot always relate to the electoral exercise is a question that needs to be understood instead of being classified as another instance of collective apathy.
The truth is that politics in India has been captured by dynasties and coteries. This is true not just of the Congress Party but of every other major national and regional party in the country.
Political parties have become exclusive clubs run by powerful central bosses or regional satraps. Gaining entrance to these institutions of influence is very difficult and can only be attained through the liberal dispensation of large sums of money, a demonstration of local or criminal clout, through gratuitous favours or through extreme supplication.
The average middle-class person has little chance of ever penetrating those political circles. The not-surprising consequence of this is the urban middle class’ growing alienation from politics and the reigning political ethos, which explains the electoral fatigue so apparent in cities across the country. The perception that voting cannot change things stems from a belief that the political class cannot be made to bend to popular will.
For the political class, matters have become easier with the troublesome middle classes increasingly staying out of the process; managing elections has become a matter of throwing sops at the semi-literate masses and promising them one or another kind of freebie — from subsidised rice and free electricity to laptops and mixer grinders.
The masses are happy because they have got something from a system that rarely gives them anything and the political class is more relaxed because now winning elections is seen as an issue of raising funds and investing them wisely in the right constituencies.
The problem with this model is that it signifies a state of disequilibrium because it involves taking money from one class of people through political donations, financial corruption and coercion and giving it to another.
This somewhat forcible method of income redistribution stretches the notion of social justice and cannot be tenable in the long run because the rising middle class, too, has expectations of the politico-administrative system.
Apart from issues of political probity, one very real issue is the rise in demand for government services — certificates, police reports, passports, roads and other infrastructure. There is also a feeling that life and property is increasingly under threat in various parts of the country due to the spread of the crime-politics nexus.
Consequently, today large sections of the urban middle class, especially the young, are no longer content to be passive observers.
Apathy can quickly change to enthusiasm if there is promise of change. This has been more than obvious at the various anti-corruption rallies in cities throughout the country; it has been apparent in the urban constituencies of West Bengal where record voter turnout helped oust the Left; and it is going to accelerate as the middle class becomes bigger and more assertive in the months and years to come.
The rise of the Indian middle class has often been commented upon by economists and business analysts, much less by political analysts.
One estimate by the Deutsche Bank suggests that while the Indian middle class constitutes less than 30 per cent of the country’s population, it is nevertheless the fastest growing economic segment.
Politicians have been protesting at the demand that civil society be part of the national decision-making process; they claim that it is the legislature’s exclusive right to formulate laws and policies and that the intrusion of civil society is extra-constitutional. That may be the case but such demands are rising precisely because the urban middle class does not have faith in the political class.
Many Congress big bosses believe that the clamour for reform can be “managed” and only cosmetic change introduced to pacify the disgruntled middle classes. Most of the other political parties, too, seem inclined to support the idea of minimal change and have desisted from taking up or supporting any agenda for radical large-scale change. The two sides — the political and the middle class — are engaged in a battle.
The impetus for change and resistance to change is an age-old dynamic. The obstructionists in New Delhi are in some ways reminiscent of the segregationists in the United States in the early 1960s. Alabama’s governor George Wallace entered the history books when in June 1963 he refused to let two black students register at the local university by standing at the door and blocking their passage. He again tried to block four black students from enrolling in elementary schools. But ultimately his segregationist attempts were defeated and Alabama was forced to accept black students in its educational institutions.
This episode prompted Bob Dylan to pen his famous warning:
“Come senators, Congressmen Please heed the call
Don’t stand in the doorway
Don’t block up the hall…”
Perhaps the politicians guarding the portals of power in New Delhi, too, should read the signs and step aside to allow civil society a place in their hitherto exclusive citadel.

Indranil Banerjie is an independent security and political risk consultant