Monday, November 28, 2016

Black-or-White

Over the last few days, one issue has dominated the headlines – the Government’s move to demonetize Rs.500 & Rs.1000 notes, announced by the Prime Minister in a first of its kind televised address to the nation. This move has caused much has caused heartburn to some, given some a reason to celebrate and has surely triggered a debate, so much so that the entire Winter Session of the Parliament risks being consumed discussing just this issue, relegating others to the background.

The incumbent government takes pride in not being implicated in a single scam in the last two-and-a-half years, a welcome change from the scam-ridden final years of the previous government. In fact, one of the poll planks of the BJP during the run-up to the General Elections was anti-corruption. (For the moment, let us turn a blind eye to the fact that they made lofty promises of depositing Rs. 15 lakh into each and every person’s account!) Black economy is indeed a menace and a fight against it is a noble one. What, then, necessitates a debate on this ‘war’ against black money, declared by the government as being ‘pro-poor’?

Let us not get into conspiracy theories of whether there was selective leak of information to BJP functionaries or whether this was done to divert attention from the furor over unlawful detention of opposition leaders over a veteran’s suicide or the one-day ban on NDTV India (which was later repealed). That is not my intention. At the end of the day, this move is more of a political masterstroke than an economic reform, looking at the dramatic fashion in which it was announced.

The debate here is not on the principle of the move but against the way it has been implemented and how the subsequent shortcomings are being addressed. For one, there is a lack of notes of the smaller denominations. The Rs.2000 note which is being provided by ATMs and over the counter in banks cannot be used at the moment since nobody is able to convert it into smaller change.  Besides, if the existing high denomination notes were scrapped because they made hoarding easier, how does introducing a note of an even higher denomination serve the purpose? Add to it the reports that there are printing errors in the new Rs.500 notes. Though the RBI has declared them valid, it shows a clear lack of preparation. The list can go on.  Newspapers are full of details of how the move has impacted the common man. They have also been very well articulated by leaders like Sitaram Yechury in the Parliament.

It is appreciated that the government wants to move the country towards a cashless society; but then, declaring 86% of the cash in circulation as invalid in one go doesn’t serve the purpose. One of the very essential requirements for a cashless society is internet connectivity. However, data shows that as of January 2016, only 34.8% of the population in the country has access to internet. Also, only 17% of all ATMs across the country are in the rural areas, which according to statistics, houses 67% of the population. The government had access to these data before announcing the decision, surely? 

When Dr. Manmohan Singh – a renowned economist and a two-term PM – chastised the government for its mismanagement of the cash-crunch, some ministers resorted to responding by saying that he had headed a scam-ridden government, rather than acknowledging his remarks. The government must realize that the elections are over and the people have given them a (historic) mandate to rule because the previous government had many scams against its name. It does not augur well to brush away criticism under the carpet and deflect the issue to an entirely different trajectory. Despite statements like “short term pain and long term gain” or comparing this decision’s aftereffects to a mother giving birth, the situation could have been handled better. The debate will go on in the Parliament and it remains to be seen what further measures will be taken by the government to handle the situation.

What this issue has led to, however, is a polarization of public opinion, which runs deeper than the demonetization debate. Blame it on the advent of social media or more number of 24X7 news channels – polarized posturing on public issues has seemingly increased under the present government. A commendable achievement of the present government is the extensive use of media and social media to ‘baptize’ lakhs as foot soldiers of the BJP, in the promise of achche din.

It is easy to sway people with sloganeering and catch phrases. That is what our PM does best - using rhetoric to stir up nationalistic fervor among people and instilling in them a (false) sense of pride to bear the hardship in the name of the country (usually by invoking the image of the soldier – another regular feature of the present government), while not blaming the government for it, despite there being evidence on the contrary. Perhaps no leader in the recent past has managed to capture public imagination as well as he does. Part of the fault lies with the Opposition as well for not having a leader around who they can rally.

What is interesting is that the usually very articulate PM has resorted to silence in the Assembly, despite repeated demands by the Opposition that he address the House on the issue. While the Opposition has questioned the implementation of demonetization, the government has repeatedly chosen to turn it into a “for-or-against corruption” debate, labeling those who question the move as standing for black money and corruption. This has been the strategy on most issues. The PM has either chosen to address gatherings and functions where there is no scope for rebuttal, directing barbs at the opposition or has said too little too late. Public discourse is being shaped in a manner where questioning the government’s move is sacrilege. Everytime a voice is raised against the government’s view of things, be it on the ‘intolerance’ debate or on the surgical strikes or on demonetization, those questioning it are labeled ‘anti-national’. It has become that easy – “fall in line or fall by the wayside.” The members of the Opposition were voted into their position by the same people who voted for the present government, weren’t they? When did adhering to the government viewpoint become a measure of nationalism?

This twisting of the nature of public discourse and shooting down opposition – by the government or by means of ‘propaganda machines’ – is alarming and does not augur well for a democracy, of which dissent is an important feature. Nor does the ‘black-or-white’ view of things being aggressively propagated today. It is important for the government and opposition to encourage constructive debate in the Parliament.

Meanwhile, it is equally important for the ‘foot soldiers’ to accommodate views contradicting their own in public space. It is important to realize that endorsing or otherwise of government opinion is not, in anyway, a certification of nationalism. 

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

Yours Whimsically – Part 7: The Freedom to fail

When my brother was in 2nd PUC, he was enrolled to a coaching institute, like the norm it has been for a long time. My father had to withdraw some amount from his PLI fund (a form of savings for government employees) in order to pay the fees. Those days, most dinner time conversations revolved around how that year – with a ‘public’ exam and other competitive entrance exams – was ‘very crucial’ in the making of my brother’s career. (This is a religiously followed ritual in all Indian homes!) Young as I was, I would be lost most of the time or would simply concentrate on what was running on TV. However, I remember that often, my father would state that it was his PLI money which had gone into the coaching classes. It was assumed that my brother had an obligation not only to make full use of this but also have the results to show it. My hardworking brother was amply rewarded for his efforts, vindicating my father’s ‘sacrifice’. Today, after so many years and a couple of job-shifts, my brother’s 2nd PUC marks sheet holds little relevance. Still, whenever my brother’s scores in those ‘vital’ exams are mentioned in any passing conversation, my father emphatically states that it was the money from his PLI fund which was the key!

When it was my turn to write the same set of exams, I was enrolled to the same coaching institute. I had the same of teachers who had taught my brother’s batch. The stars had aligned to recreate the magic they had performed six years ago, surely? As fate would have it, I was not as ‘successful’. By a (happy) turn of events, I am in a national institute – IISER – today, but that is a story for another day. My parents were not disappointed or perhaps did well not to show it. Some of my relatives were not so kind, though. The facilities were all provided for. ‘Success’ was assured, wasn’t it? Why had I ‘failed’, then? Many parents believe that a good coaching centre ensures a seat in the choicest of colleges. It is banking on this Indian belief that these institutes have sprung up like mushrooms, churning out ranks at state and national levels in the dozens, while minting money in the crores. (I could say that these institutes are mere factories, but having been through one, let me not.)

This summer, I tried my hand at teaching Class 5 students at a government school for a month. I asked them what their ambitions were and received a myriad of responses, ranging from a teacher to a police officer to an actor. However, by the time the same children reach Class 9 or 10, their ambitions would be, most often than not, ‘channelized’ into the generic ones – engineers or doctors. The Indian middle-class parents – whose life’s ambition it was to be an engineer but could not achieve it – try to fulfil that through their children. For them, it is their life’s mission to ensure that their children reach a higher station. They spare no efforts in making sure that the children are well provided for. Through all this, there is an inherent belief on the parents’ side of their wards’ success while on the other side, an obligation (pressure, rather) to succeed.

When my brother decided to quit his previous job, my father was insistent that he do so only after securing another. “A bird in hand is worth two in a bush. What if you do not get another one?” he would question him, before going on to relate a probable fall in the share market to my brother’s chances of getting a job. When logic would not suffice to seal the argument, he would try the “I want my sons to be more successful than I am” line. You cannot argue against that, can you?

During a discussion, one of our teachers pointed out that with our parents trying so hard to ensure we have everything we need, there was no scope for struggle in our lives. Ours was a “sanitized” world, he said. With due respect to all parents, this has not prepared us to face real-life crises. Moreover, because whatever we wanted was so easily made available to us, we have not learnt to appreciate their value. It is for these reasons that it is important to fail; important to struggle.

I remember that some years ago, I had jokingly pointed out to my father an ad inviting applications to the NSD. “Get an engineering degree first. You do whatever you wish to later” was his response. A generic one. For most of the middle-class Indians, engineering is a back-up option. It is the fear of failure which has turned engineering into life’s ‘ambition’. May be going off the beaten track is not always a successful venture. However, failure allows us to step back and rethink our ideas, our beliefs. Perhaps, we may also realize what the true calling or ‘ambition’ is. Being able to take failure in our stride is what makes us stronger.

It requires conscious effort to restructure our understanding of what success and failure mean. Also, it requires a lot of courage to venture out without a ‘back-up’ option, a notion so deeply engrained into our systems. While in no way demeaning the lakhs of engineers entering the market every year, all I am trying to do is build up a case for the freedom to fail.