It is no secret that intellectual fashions in developing
countries, as indeed many other kinds of fashion, are often lagged versions
of what was earlier popular in the west. The mystery, then, is not that
such a tendency should exist in India as well. Rather, the questions
are why, even after the communications technology revolution, the time
lags in their adoption persist, and how such imported ideas can continue
to hold sway here well after they have been discredited elsewhere.
This is of course evident in all sorts of ways, whether in trends
in cinema and literature, or even in terms of choosing objects of adulation.
Thus, quite recently, much of the English language media in India expressed
a near-hysterical degree of obsequiousness in covering the visit of
Bill Clinton, a man who is already dismissed in his own country as a
somewhat embarrassing lame-duck President. Quite apart from the servility
reflected in a response which did not take into account the effects
for our own citizens of the policies symbolised by this man, it was
also an outdated reaction showing a retarded appreciation of current
reality.
But nowhere is this slowness in adapting modes of thought more sharply
illustrated than in terms of ideas about economic policy. The 1990s
was the decade of the explosion of free market ideology in economic
policy in the West, the period when dirigisme ran for cover and
government intervention of any variety was seen as anathema. Even by
the middle of the period, the flaws of simple-mindedness on this question
were obvious. And by the close of the decade, extreme marketism was
possibly even more exposed than the strategies it had defeated, especially
with respect to financial markets.
In India, however, at least in the corridors of power, all this is
yet to become news. The Finance Ministry apparently persists in the
belief that financial markets can function efficiently to increase savings
and allocate them to the most socially desirable investments with minimal
government regulation, and that liberalising the rules for capital entry
and exit in the country is the best way of stabilising and benefiting
from such flows. Such axioms must have underwritten the latest financial
liberalisation measures as outlined in the Budget, and recent official
expositions on the subject have left no doubt of the firmness of these
beliefs.
Elsewhere, of course, that optimistic vision has been greatly tempered,
not only by the sobering experience of many emerging markets over the
decade, but also by theoretical developments in economics which have
highlighted the possibility of many kinds of market failure specific
to financial markets. What is now widely accepted is that some kinds
of regulation may be necessary, not just to prevent or mitigate the
effects of capital flight, but even to control periodic rushes of capital
entry which can have destabilising effects.
This perception has now come home even to the multilateral institutions
that have been seen as the high priests of market-driven economic philosophy.
Thus, the World Bank, in its most recent edition of the annual publication
Global Development Finance, makes arguments which - if made in
India by less hallowed sources - would be immediately dismissed by market
apologists as typical leftist ranting.
To emphasise this point, some of the discussion in this recent World
Bank report deserves fuller quotation at some length : "All past
episodes of surges in capital flows to emerging markets have ended in
severe international financial crises. Hard landings rather than soft
landings have been the rule... Booms in private capital flows to emerging
markets have been punctuated by frequent banking and exchange rate crises
in the capital-receiving countries, and have usually ended in severe
economic dislocation or political conflict. By contrast, financial crises
and debt overhangs were relatively rare during the Bretton Woods era,
when capital controls and stringent financial sector regulation limited
capital flows to emerging markets (although several exchange rate crises
did occur).