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Giani Zail Singh Memorial Lecture THE FUTURE OF DEMOCRACY
By
Professor M.L. Sondhi
India International Centre, Saturday, May 5, 2001
We are, today,
witness to a multiplicity of national crises and to
unprecedented decay – and in some areas, even a breakdown –
of the institutions of governance. A regime of incoherence
and confusion prevails in the political life of the nation,
and the authority and legitimacy of every institution is
increasingly undermined by the actions of the very
individuals who control them, and were intended to defend
them against such erosion.
The failure is
not limited to a particular regime or specific branch of the
government, but is comprehensive. The political executive,
the judiciary, the legislature, and all branches of
government subsidiary to each of these, are equally
afflicted, and it is no longer possible even to sustain the
fiction that it is the one or the other that is ‘more
corrupt’ or ‘less efficient’. Indeed, even the variation
that exists between different parts of the country –
regarded as more or less backward, corrupt, unstable, or
violent – are essentially a deferred movement along the same
downward continuum. Referring to the anarchy, the
unconcealed corruption and the deepening nexus with
organized criminal elements in Bihar and the extension of
these trends to the rest of the country, K.P.S. Gill has
remarked, “What we are speaking of….may well be no more than
a time lag, implying no fundamental difference of
character. Bihar, in the most unfortunate sense possible,
would then be the trendsetter, the leader, with the rest of
the nation a straggling imitator of its past excesses."
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This must,
indeed, be a terrifying image for all of us who have an
abiding faith in constitutional democracy and the rule of
law. But optimism becomes difficult to sustain in view of
the conduct of some of the highest institutions in the
land. What can be said when Members of India’s Parliament –
the source from which the power of all other institutions
flows, and in which the sovereign authority of the nation
and its people is vested – choose to conduct themselves in a
manner that delegitimizes this very institution in the eyes
of the people? The disruption of Parliament in the past
weeks shows how deep and urgent the institutional collapse
has become, as the actions of its Members contradict and
cancel out the very Constitutional rationale of its
existence. This is only the most recent episode in a
legislature that increasingly refuses to legislate, to
debate critical issues of national interest, and to ensure
that the business of government proceeds under the critical
scrutiny of its sovereign authority.
It is clear that, in every sphere of public life today, the
life-sustaining link between morality and power has been
completely severed. The gravest threat now comes, not from
elements opposed to democracy who challenge the authority of
the established order from without, through revolutionary or
criminal actions, but from within the
decaying system
itself. As one commentator has written, in a different
context, “We have now to contend less with a delinquent
whose success and energy silence opposition than with the
widespread incorporation of delinquent patterns of conduct
into the actual structure and mechanism of society.”2
Evidently, we
are not the society we set out to be, and the aspirations
and objectives written into India’s Constitution have
failed, in significant measure, to be realized. Today, we
are confronted with a paralysis of political decision-making
in connection with life-and-death questions facing the
country – and even a superficial observer of events on our
borders both to the East and the West can assess the
magnitude and disastrous consequences of this inability to
act. Political power is passing progressively out of the
hands of institutional government, and has become
increasingly randomized. The lack of political leadership
has relentlessly sharpened conflicts to the knife-edge of
violence, and criminal and political terrors are becoming
pervasive. The constitutional structure itself is, in many
parts of the country, on the verge of disintegration, and
the political processes that were intended to realize the
‘will of the people’ produce aggregate results that do not
correspond to the desires or ‘common will’ of any
substantial part of the population.
Has democracy,
then, failed us? There are many voices today, both to the
far Right and the Left, that would seize upon this as the
right answer. The truth, however, is that we have failed
democracy – and the first and greatest failure has been that
of understanding.
Before assessing the character and magnitude of this
failure, it is necessary to identify those who I believe are
the most culpable in this context. It is true, of course,
that politicians, bureaucrats and all others in public life
have contributed to the reign of political illusion that
dominates the national discourse; it is true, equally, that
it is, eventually, the citizens of a democracy that must
bear ultimate responsibility for the character of the
regimes they inflict on themselves. But, as a social
scientist myself, I must concede that among these, it is
India’s social sciences that have been guilty of a great
abdication. The academic community has, in the main,
reclused itself from research, documentation and reappraisal
of issues relating to the more unsettling of contemporary
events, and preferred to focus of relatively ‘safe’ areas,
meta-issues, and a range of purely polemical discourses
within the context of the great ‘systemic’ debates of the
Cold War. Most of these have been sufficiently distanced
from the rough and tumble of current political upheavals and
conflicts to be of little relevance to public policy. In
doing this, the social science community has neglected a
fundamental duty within the democratic framework – the
creation of a continuous pressure of reassessment that
identifies the range of available policy options, and forces
continuous correctives on the body politic even as the
ongoing challenges and crises of governance unfold.
David Lyons
observes, we must “remind ourselves of the rationales of our
rules and principles if we do not want them to become
ineffective dogmas.”3
The intellectual community in India has substantially failed
to prevent the rules and principles of a vigorous democracy
from lapsing, over time, into reductionist slogans and
‘ineffective dogmas’. Over the past more than five decades,
social scientists have played little role in defining public
policy or in reforming the processes and practices of the
various institutions of governance. It is this intellectual
defalcation – certainly among a wide variety of other
factors – that has led to the confusions that proliferate
regarding the basic nature of democracy, and the range of
actions that are prescribed and permitted within the scope
of constitutional governance.
One of the most
devastating misconceptions, in this context, has been the
idea of democracy in India as a sort of ‘soft option’ for
governance; a system in which everyone can get what they
want, with no one paying the price; one in which we can
negotiate the future of vast regions in this country with
terrorists and criminals, and that can give such men an
honourable place in the State and national legislatures, and
still hope to uphold the rule of law in the country; a
system that, as long as the quinquennial ritual of elections
is in place, will secure all the concomitant benefits of a
democracy, and fulfil ‘collective aspirations’ without any
further effort on sacrifice on the part of the leadership or
the masses; and finally, a system under which all freedoms
are guaranteed in perpetuity once they have been enshrined
in a written constitution.
Nothing could
be further from the truth. Democracy, indeed, is the most
difficult from of governance known to man, and one that
demands the most extraordinary participatory effort from
every citizen. Indeed, it is not even a particularly
efficient form of government and one needs to remind oneself
of Winston Churchill’s wry dictum that democracy is the
worst form of government; apart from all those others that
have been tried from time to time. In the same vein,
Churchill also commented that the best argument against
democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average
voter.
Those who
fought for and built India’s democracy were not unaware of
these systemic failings, and long before independence,
Mahatma Gandhi wrote that, “It (democracy) will bring out
the best and the worst in us.”4
He also wrote:
The risks of
the experiment are admitted. There is likely to be
impersonation. Unscrupulous persons will mislead the
illiterate masses into voting for wrong men and women.
These have to be run, if we are to evolve something true and
big.5
Here, then, lies the hope for the future of Indian
democracy, and the reasons for many of our past and current
failings. In the rough and tumble of quotidian crises, in
the petty
scramble for
partisan privileges, in our misleading obsession with the
politics of caste, of community and of charisma, we have
lost sight of the greater goal – “to evolve something true
and big.”
To restore the
idea of, and quest for, this ‘something’ is the role of the
nation’s intellectual, political and economic leadership.
It is a role that has obviously been neglected, and the
checks and balances, the dynamism and efficiency, of the
institutions and instrumentalities of democratic governance
have gradually been eroded through our own negligence.
There is a
great air of cynicism and despair in most contemporary
discussions on India’s public life. Such pessimism is
barren. To fault the current or past regimes; individual
leaders of political parties; the bureaucracy, the judiciary
or the legislature, or any other institution of governance
is both easy and fruitless. Systems far worse than our own
have been lifted out of their internal collapse by the
initiative, the commitment and vision of a handful of men,
often drawn from the most unexpected walks of life. Lech
Walesa and the Solidarity movement that dismantled a brutal
dictatorship and brought Poland to democracy have important
lessons for the modern world and its obsession with the
seizure and significance of the instrumentalities of state
power. Adam Michnik, one of the leaders and ideologues of
the Solidarity movement proposed a reversal of the classic
revolutionary strategy of seizing state power to effect
desired social change. The Polish people, wrote Michnik,
should simply ignore the state and proceed to live their own
lives, take over their own destiny, and “live as if we were
free.”6
It is an interesting notion, and one that places the burden
of freedom and of democracy precisely where it belongs – on
the people themselves, and among them, pre-eminently on men
of ideas who possess the courage of commitment that is
needed to challenge an oppressive order, and to restore the
dignity of man within a truly democratic framework.
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