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.