It
was indeed an unusual ''social movement''. A group of
''activists'' who had banded together to draft one version
of a bill that would establish a statutory institution
to investigate corruption in the political establishment
sits in protest demanding the acceptance and passage
of its version of the bill. The protest has elements
of a social drama inasmuch as it fronts an elderly leader,
Anna Hazare, with Gandhian credentials, a reputation
for integrity and uncertain political inclinations,
who anounces his decision to fast unto death unless
the demands of the movement are accepted. The private
visual media in search of events that would make news
appear like entertainment, sensing that there is no
threat to the system here, becomes the propaganda machine
of the movement, running down politicians and the state,
extolling the protest, and presenting its activists
as modern day heroes. Sections of the middle class and
the intelligentsia angered by political corruption,
but with little inclination otherwise to dissent or
engage in protest, join the movement either ''virtually''
(through, blogs, twitter and facebook) or on location.
What follows is a surprise. A government battered by
allegations of large scale corruption and with no defence
against its failure to pass similar legislation, dismisses
the demands at first, dithers subsequently and then
capitulates to embrace the soft option of co-opting
nominees of the ''movement'' into a committee tasked with
drafting a version of the bill to be placed before parliament.
The movement declares victory, Anna Hazare breaks his
fast, and his supporters launch celebrations reminiscent
of those indulged in after the World Cup victory of
a cricket crazy nation. Emboldened by the euphoric response,
Hazare declares that he would once again launch a protest
unless the Lok Pal bill is passed by Parliament in the
near future in the form in which his band of activists
have formulated it.
While there is all-round acceptance that corruption
needs to be combated and all efforts to root it out
are welcome, this short-lived but much-hyped movement
has generated a number of questions, objections and
criticisms. One is whether the views of one set of ''activists'',
however well-intentioned, on what should be the nature
of the bill, has to be necessarily ''right'' and accepted
at all costs by all sections in a democratic society.
Inasmuch as their original decision to draft a bill
was entirely their own, the version of the bill advanced
by these ''activists'' is only one of many that need to
be considered as part of a more participative public
and parliamentary debate on the issue. This makes their
selective inclusion by a pressurised government as representatives
of ''civil society'' in the committee tasked with drafting
the version of the bill that goes to Parliament questionable.
Activism on one or more issues is itself not adequate
qualification to be given this role.
The second question relates to whether the version of
the bill drafted by this group meets the requirements
of discovery and punishment of corrupt agents in a democratic
framework. Many argue that it does not, and that it
can be faulted on its recommendations on how the Lok
Pal, consisting of a committee with a Chair and a set
of ten members, is to be constituted; and that it concentrates
too much power in a few hands and gives too extensive
a jurisdiction to the institution, with inadequate checks
and balances.
The third question is whether the very way in which
the views of the few activists who spearheaded the recent
movement are sought to be ''imposed'' is deeply anti-democratic
and a challenge to the spirit of the Indian constitution
and the elements of democracy this country has managed
to fashion and sustain.
And finally there is the question whether the single-minded
emphasis on corruption, the focus on ''morality'', and
the declaration that the institution of the Lok Pal
is adequate to deal with corruption, divert attention
from more deep-seated problems in society. It is indeed
perfectly reasonable to argue that corruption, which
involves the misuse of positions of power to obtain
illegal gratification, is in itself morally repugnant
and wrong. But corruption is particularly repugnant
in backward and unequal societies inasmuch as it diverts
resources away from development expenditures, especially
those geared to reducing deprivation and improving the
quality of life of the poor. It needs to be noted that
corruption does not generate additional output that
can be appropriated by surplus earners in the system.
It only helps to squeeze out more surplus from a given
output and redistribute the available surplus through
mechanisms that are not considered ''fair'' or ''legal''
even according to the rules of the capitalist game.
A moot question, therefore, is how the system generates
so much surplus to deliver both to the billionaires
who epitomise ''emergent India'' as well as the few members
of the political class who enrich themselves consistently
as they move from election to election.
Approached thus, there is more to corruption than merely
the avarice and malfeasance of politicians and the bureaucracy
that the Lok Pal Bill seeks to address. The problems
that corruption is seen to aggravate also stem from
and are aggravated by factors other than corruption,
which are perfectly ''legal'' under capitalism. Consider
for example the evidence that in recent years there
has been a substantial increase in inequality in India,
with poverty and deprivation persisting and even worsening
while the upper middle class flourishes and the number
of dollar billionaires rapidly increases. One reason
for this is the ability of sections of the private sector
to acquire scarce resources cheaply, be it land, spectrum
or mineral wealth, by planting and paying off corrupt
politiians in power. The other is that the government
in different ways seeks to incentivise private activity
at the expense of the exchequer – a practice that has
been enhanced substantially during the era of ''economic
reform'' since the early 1990s. Thus the revenue loss
on account of tax concessions to the corporate sector,
which was estimated at Rs. 72,881 crore in 2009-10,
is projected to rise to Rs. 88,263 core in 2010-11.
The corresponding figures for direct taxes payable by
individual tax payers are Rs. 40,297 crore and Rs. 45,222
crore. These figures are particularly disconcerting
because there are few takers for the argument that privileging
the rich with tax concessions of these magnitudes is
good for the poor because it would deliver growth with
increases in employment and output.
If sums of this magnitude had been retained by the state
and diverted to development expenditures, it would have
substantially reduced deprivation, enhanced literacy,
increased school enrolment and strengthened democracy.
The fact that this was not done, even though the scale
and intensity of deprivation in this country is appalling,
is a form of social corruption that is also morally
unjustifiable. It is also quite possible that the private
sector has in multiple ways ''paid off'' a section of
the policy making elite to win itself these tax concessions.
The ideology of ''reform'' only strengthens these kinds
of policies and gives them legitimacy. But many of supporters
of the recent ''movement'' against corruption, including
businessmen who backed it, sections of the ''new'' middle
class that celebrated it, and the media that served
as its propaganda machine, are beneficiaries of this
reform.
The persistence of deprivation that results from this
trajectory only worsens corruption inasmuch as it weakens
the capability of people to participate fully in democratic
processes and check corrupt practices in the process.
That the activists in the recent movement do not all
see this as a problem was reflected in the reported
statements of Anna Hazare on the role of elections.
Declaring that he is likely to forfeit his deposit if
he stood for elections, Hazare reportedly stated: ''Ordinary
voters do not have awareness. They cast their vote under
the influence of Rs. 100 or a bottle of liquor or a
sari offered by candidates. They don't understand the
value of their vote.'' Possibly Hazare does not see such
behaviour, to the extent it prevails, as being the result
of lack of literacy and education and the presence of
debilitating poverty, all of which are also linked to
and perpetuate corruption.
What the single-minded overemphais on corruption, especially
corruption in the political establishment and the bueauracy,
does is that it diverts attention from these deep-seated
structural problems and allows many who are guilty of
a larger form of malfeasance to cleanse themselves by
protesting against politial corruption. By identifying
the political class as being the guilty, the elite that
benefits from the neoliberal environment absolves itself
of any responsibility for the problems that are among
the important ones sought to be better addressed by
combating corruption.
It needs to be noted that any failure to address these
fundamental tendencies could spell the failure of movements
such as that of Anna Hazare as well. Public attention
in the digital age can be fickle. ''Digital communities''
created by television and the internet often absorb
partial information, selective anecdotes and a large
dose of opinion, to form views that are fervently held
till the next issue captures attention. When the issue
concerned has to compete for attention with commercial
films and commercialised cricket, the task of garnering
attention to appease the advertiser is even more difficult.
The resulting role of private television is particularly
damaging. Driven by the desire to maximise either profit
or share market value, thinned of substance to expand
the universe of watchers, seeking to sensationalise
to garner attention, and not believing, like the serious
print media, in separating, as far as possible, fact
and opinion, it panders to the lowest common denominator
with little concern for truth, balance or logic.
This affects the issues chosen and the way they are
framed. In recent times the issue chosen has been corruption,
which though a perennial in political discourse, has
been repackaged for the digital age. But the resulting
coverage is imbalanced and tendentious. It encourages
cycnicism about democratic politics while ignoring the
fact that corruption in societies such as ours is also
structurally embedded. That is why the rich are often
the most corrupt. Let us not forget there are serious
allegations of misuse of power and violation of law
against individuals who are ''respectable'' in the eyes
of capitalism: Warren Buffet's erstwhile heir apparent
David Sokol, Wall Street's one time respectable fund
manager Bernard Madoff and former McKinsey head Rajat
Gupta, to name a few.
Some individuals in that league in this country are
known to try and manipulate those in positions of power
to bend, violate or even change the law to enhance the
already large volumes of wealth they have. A corollary
is that those wielding power, knowing they can play
this role, seek out those who would make the payments
that would aggrandise both beneficiary and politician.
In unequal societies what is ''more'' varies with class.
So corruption of varying magnitudes (if it can be calibrated
thus) pervades society.
To divert attention, the problem is reduced to the misuse
of power by politicians, most often presented as individuals
who are where they are only because of the evil intent
of amassing wealth illegally. This attack on democracy
is easily extended to argue that those who vote for
these politicians do not deserve democracy. True democracy
can come from only those who ''know'' how to build moral
societies. If the people don't listen to them, then
the people have no place in true democracies.
Arguments such as these are so patently wrong that they
should not need rebuttal. But they must be countered
because they not only divert attention from more fundamental
challenges, but could be used to undermine democracy
itself.
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