Showing posts with label Sanjeeb Mukherjee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sanjeeb Mukherjee. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

The Left Front Government’s Development Strategy: A Critique and Notes Towards an Alternative Imaginary

Sanjeeb Mukherjee

The term development has come to assume a mythical status in the third world. Development has been portrayed as a necessity; its broad parameters cannot be challenged. Development has been touted as the panacea for all the ills and suffering of the postcolonial world. Development is made out to be an independent goal that has to be pursued whether the government is right, left or whatever. Development is seen as an independent technical issue – a matter of science and technology, a question involving knowledge and truth and wealth generation. Thus, development is not a matter of politics and ethics in the sense of issues for debate and criticism by the people. Development is out of bounds for democracy. Is there no alternative to this dominant model of development?

In this article, we shall critically think about development and the Left government Front (LF) government’s perspective on development in West Bengal since 1977. Throughout the article, we shall primarily talk of the CPI (M) when we discuss the LF because the CPM overwhelmingly dominates the Front and the government. First, we shall examine the CPM’s imaginary of development and then, try to answer how the CPM, which, believed in fighting capitalism and imperialism and in making a revolution, has today come to be capital’s greatest advocate? How did this transformation come about? Finally, we shall try to look for alternatives to this model of development – alternatives, both in theory and practice, alternatives, which can be implemented here and now.

I

Waiting for Revolution: The CPM’s Imaginary and Strategy of Development

To orthodox communists, the revolution led by the working class is central to their understanding of both, history and historical change. The CPM, in 1964 split from the CPI to uphold the revolutionary line of change; it believed that no fundamental change or development is possible within the existing system. It further believed that given the weakness of the Indian bourgeoisie even full-fledged capitalist development is well nigh impossible. Unless, imperialism, monopoly capitalism and feudalism is overthrown by making a revolution no development is possible. However, under democratic rule the communists may participate in parliament or even form governments at the state level for three reasons. First, to use the government as an instrument of struggle, initially for popular demands and ultimately, to create conditions for the revolution to occur. Secondly, to bring about limited agrarian reforms, which the bourgeoisie is supposed to do but is unable in backward countries, like India. Finally, these governments can merely provide some relief to the people to tide over their immediate difficulties, mainly, economic. Relief is an interesting term, lifted straight out of the colonial bureaucratic discourse, where it meant giving doles to the people during famines or natural calamities to prevent discontent among the people. In fact, the communists believed that successful participation in parliament has the danger of mellowing their militancy and creating illusions among the people about the possibilities of development within the system. Given their revolutionary beliefs and practices, the left believed that they would invariably be dislodged from government by the centre. In fact, all communist led governments in the 1950s and 1960s were dismissed in spite of their having a majority in the legislature.

In the mid 1960s, the CPM faced a major challenge from the Maoists, who wanted to make an instant revolution. It led to a bitter conflict between the two ending in a left gang war, which took urban Bengal to the brink of a civil war. This situation gave the Indian state the opportunity to stage a major counter attack on the entire left, leading to its defeat and the near decimation of the Maoists.

In the wake of this defeat, the CPM made a historic compromise with the Indian state, capitalism and imperialism. And it is this defeated left that came to power in 1977, a left that had given up its militancy against the dominant classes, a left that had given up its struggle to make a revolution. The interesting point is that the left could not create an alternative imaginary of historical change and development. So, in 1977, it was not only a defeated and mellowed force, it was also a cautious left, lest it face dismissal from office. It was a left that abjectly failed to critically and creatively think and dream the impossible.

Since the Left’s imaginary, ideology and strategy was centred on revolution, once it moved away from militancy to prepare for the revolution it simply did not know what to do. It was a collective failure of imagination and creative and critical thinking on the part of the CPM. They completely ran out of ideas. New thinking within CPM could not emerge, not only because of the anti intellectual culture of the party, but also because of the dogmatic way they believed in Marxism which, did not allow them to formally accept that they have given up their belief in revolution. Like any religion, they just clung on to Marxism as a set of rituals and mantras. Their formal beliefs and their actual practices just did not match. However, such a mismatch cannot continue for long as otherwise it would have created a serious problem of credibility.

Hence, gradually, almost imperceptibly, the ideology and discourse of the CPM changed to create a new set of practices and to make better sense of these to gain legitimacy within the party and the people. In fact, the key figure to make this discursive shift was Jyoti Basu, whose pragmatism and lack of understanding and faith in orthodox Marxism proved to be his greatest strength. He started speaking in a new language, a language far removed from talk of class struggle, revolution, anti capitalism and anti imperialism. His new discourse was built around development, the development of West Bengal as a whole, which he believed could only follow new investment. Hence, his focus shifted to attract investments. Soon, the other leaders started speaking in this new language and even started imitating Basu’s mannerisms. From the perspective of the working class, he moved over to the perspective of the Bengali nation or nationality. The new assumption was if Bengal developed and prospered, everybody would get to benefit, including the poor and the oppressed. Since revolution was not round the corner and nothing could be done to hasten its arrival, the CPM now argued that, it is better that we come to terms with reality. But the party had not completely given up its revolutionary baggage and many of its accompanying articles of faith, like no fundamental change can be brought about within the system. The CPM was caught in a dilemma; it opted for development powered by private investment but could not whole heartedly provide the other preconditions for the long term growth of capital like a disciplined work culture, an autonomous civil society and the rule of law. For winning elections, it needed the support of the people and the party, which prevented it from serving capital the way it wanted. It is in this context, that we can better understand the CPM’s development strategy.

Till around 1990, the CPM, in the wake of these changes, sought refuge in the Soviet approved Nehruvian model of economic development. It has to be appreciated that Nehru’s imaginary of development was far more comprehensive. It included a plan of democratic political development, a strategy of civil society and public institution building and a vision of peaceful social change. Not that he was successful, but the vision and the philosophy were quite well articulated. CPM’s Marxist ideological baggage and its political support base prevented it from accepting Nehru’s wider model of change, so they as a matter of convenience found his economic plan worthy of copying. Soon after coming to power in 1977 the LF government produced an industrial policy document which, stated that the government’s main goals were, reversal of industrial stagnation; lessening the stranglehold of monopolies and multinationals; encouragement of indigenous technology and self reliance; increasing the control of actual producers, i.e. workers, over the industrial sector and increasing employment.1 For more than a decade it was obvious that the government could not come anywhere near any of these goals. Its major achievement was in the field of land reforms and the creation of panchayats.

Given the meager resources of the states in India it is impossible for any government to implement such an industrial policy, especially one with a government hostile to the central state. In fact, Jyoti Basu had long realized that and went out of his way to attract investments in marked opposition to the government’s official policy. In a major speech to the Bengal Chamber of Commerce he candidly confessed that he has a ‘vital interest in helping the growth of industries’, that he wanted to take a ‘realistic view of the political and economic situation’ and in the existing situation the private sector, including multinational and monopolies, have a ‘major role to play.’ Basu continued, ‘Certainly we would support the need for foreign technology or even investment if it would help production and distribution of items essentially required’. He added, ‘our incentives to the private sector have been increasing rapidly’.2 Jyoti Basu being less doctrinaire and more pragmatic and farsighted was clearly bringing about a paradigm shift in the discourse of the left which, since 1990 became the official policy of the party. He could indeed, be credited with making a discursive revolution within the left, without in any way being a Marxist theoretician. In the meantime, the left was vociferous about greater power to the states and a greater share of resources for Bengal in order to implement the Nehruvian model of economic development.

The global changes in the 1990s was a godsend for the CPM to get out of the impasse it had landed itself in trying to attract capital and half-heartedly implement the Nehruvian development plan. The disintegration of Soviet socialism and the rise of global capital were the background factors, which compelled a weak minority government of Narsimha Rao to fundamentally change India’s course of economic development towards the neoliberal path. The ascendancy of the market saw the end of the license raj that led states to compete with each other to attract capital. The LF government could no longer hold the centre responsible for investors bypassing Bengal. Billboards in Bengal celebrated development with as much gusto as the left had earlier championed revolution. And development was defined and measured by the quantum of private investment that came to the state. (In the 1960s and 70s private investment was the index of exploitation and subjugation, which was a standard item of the left’s graffiti on Calcutta’s walls.)

The LF government gave up all pretences to leftism, even of the Nehruvian variety. It officially welcomed capital, whatever its nature. It engaged international consultancy firms like Mckinsey to advise the government how best to make Bengal attractive, safe and profitable for capital. The present chief minister, Buddhadev Bhattacharyya, when accused of acting as an agent of the Tatas in Singur, proudly retorted that he is not merely the agent of Tata but is the agent of all capitalists willing to invest in Bengal. What I find most interesting in this transformation of the left is not any betrayal, defeat or sell out, but the failure to come up with alternative imaginaries and strategies of change and development. They did not have to depend on the centre for making the children of Bengal literate or improve the quality of educational standards or provide a better public health system or ensure a more efficient and responsive administration or come up with innovative livelihood schemes for the poor. That they failed to do what was even achieved by Congress led state governments, leave alone Kerala, speaks of this failure to think differently.

III

Development in the Time of Globalisation: The SEZ Model


Now that the Soviet empire has collapsed and revolution is not round the corner, what could the left have done other than surrender to capital? One answer, which the left in Bengal has espoused, is that there is no alternative. The TINA factor is at work. Politics is all about alternatives and possibilities, rather politics is about the impossible; dreaming the impossible and devising strategies to make the impossible possible. If the TINA line is sold there is no politics, there is no debate, no criticism, no dreams and hence no legitimate opposition. Thus, Buddhadev Bhattacharyya claimed, the only alternative to the LF government is a better LF government. Politics then is reduced to efficiently implementing the only policies that exist. Politics becomes a matter of management, requiring technical skills, which experts will provide, leaving no space for the people or democracy. TINA is part of the culture of authoritarianism.

If we have to think of alternatives, we have to dare to dream the impossible. The revolutionary communists did dream of the impossible in the form of the revolution, the impossible will be achieved once the revolution takes place. The revolution did take place, but only in very few countries and the mere fact of revolution did not guarantee the promised order. In fact, in most countries, either the revolution collapsed or new forms of exploitation and oppression were established. Change in human history has not always taken the route of the insurrectionary model of revolution as seen in France or Russia. In most countries there has been no revolutions nor is revolution round the corner, for which we wait patiently. What do we do in these circumstances? The insurrectionary model of the revolution was forged under authoritarian and absolutist states, like Czarist Russia or monarchical France. The establishment of democracy has fundamentally changed the prospects of the old model of revolution. In fact, the reason why the orthodox model of revolution failed to materialize in Western Europe, which otherwise was the most developed capitalist zone of the world, was the coming of democracy. In fact, not only has democracy thwarted insurrections, no two democratic countries have ever gone to war. Paradoxically, revolutions, in the post war era, have occurred in communist countries all of which lacked democracy. Democracy thus opens up new possibilities of historical change, but for that we need new imaginaries and strategies of change. And it is on this count that our collective failure has been truly immense.

Why do we need to think of alternatives to the dominant model of development? We have to think of alternatives because this model of development just cannot provide its benefits equitably to the entire human race and leave enough for future generations and for other living beings. Colonization is central to this model of industrialization and development; this was not only true at the time of the birth of capitalism, but also true for the entire history of capitalism, including the present phase of globalisation. Though the forms of colonization has changed over time, it has always been extremely violent, oppressive and exploitative, involving genocide, pauperization, displacement and de-industrialisation and the loss of common resources of the community, both physical and cultural. Marx called it the primitive accumulation of capital, it is primitive not because it happened long ago and its victims were primitive peoples but because it is the original source of capital which has been generated through large-scale violence. It is a process, which is both central and contemporary to capitalism.3 The tragedy of colonialism has to be repeated, and every time as more tragic, whenever capitalism is in crisis and has to renew or expand itself.

Our received understanding of colonialism does not always bring out the colossal dimensions of the global genocide and destruction that capitalism unleashed from the time of its birth. We are more familiar with the loot and plunder and slavery that accompanied modern European colonialism; what is often overlooked is human history’s greatest genocide wherein the overwhelming majority of the indigenous population of three continents were decimated and they were occupied by European settlers. This happened to North America, South America and Australia. This should make America, not Auschwitz, the metaphor of genocide. The standard political economies of colonialism have to be supplemented by these tragedies. Alfred Crosby4 has described, what he calls ecological imperialism, where besides traders and gunboats there were four agents of European expansion, namely, i. Human beings, ii. Animals closely associated with Europeans, including rats and mice, iii. Pathogens that cause epidemics like small pox, and iv. Weeds.

Today we are witnessing another phase of colonization for which a legitimizing term has become fashionable – globalisation – global flows of information, of culture, of finance, of ideas, of people, of goods. The world, it is claimed, is open like the Internet; economically the world has become one marketplace. Land, labour, capital and ideas freely move to buy and sell at the most competitive prices. Nations and states are becoming redundant; borders are supposed to vanish very soon. No center can control the new global order – the Internet is the best model and metaphor of this new world.

Let us for a moment check out if this matches with our reality. Since nothing is purely local and unique under globalisation, let us talk of what is happening in our immediate vicinity – Singur and Nandigram. Nearly all the factors of production are available there at the most competitive prices – labour, roads and ports have attracted Tata and Dow. There was one small hitch, land was, well, both free and unavailable at the same time. The laws of the global market seemed to have been suspended in communist Bengal, at least for one crucial factor of production, viz., land. The government decided to acquire land from the peasants and hand them over to Tata and Dow gratis, well, almost. Land in Bengal is scarce, so it becomes particularly expensive, if available, at all. So, Mr Tata found the CPM’s hostility to the market, at least, the land market, very profitable; communist ideas are not always unpalatable to capital. Little did the CPM suspect that the progressive politics of Nehru and his family, which communists in India and Russia found to be paving the path for a peaceful transition to socialism could now come to the aid of Tata and Dow. The Nehru family, prodded by the communists, made crucial changes in the Indian Constitution, which it was believed would facilitate the future switch to socialism hassle-free. Through a series of amendments, the fundamental right to property was initially pruned and finally simply dumped. As a result, if your property is acquired by the state, you cannot challenge it on any ground, be it the quantum of compensation or even the declared purpose of the state. So, land was acquired and handed over in a platter to Mr Tata by a communist government in Bengal, period.

Tata and Dow and their self-proclaimed agent, Buddhadev Bhattacharyya soon faced popular struggles against the state’s land grab programme. They however, found their business and political rival’s hand in these uprisings. The state and the ruling party had to resort to murder, rape, arson, violence and lies to quell the rebellion. Why did the government not follow the logic and ideology of globalisation in its bid to set up car plants and chemical units? West Bengal has a wealth of skilled, educated and unemployed labour; Tata and Dow have the means and knowledge; the only thing missing is land. Neither is well endowed with land. In this age of globalisation, economic common sense should have prompted them to look for a place where land is in excess supply. I know of at least three places where land is abundant – United States of America, Canada and Australia. Of course, labour in these countries is very costly. I know of another simple solution – Indian labour is willing to migrate to the west at its own cost. But then, it could be argued that minimum wages must be pretty high in the west. Again, there is a simple solution – set up SEZs in America, where the normal laws of the land would be suspended. There is an added advantage, the infrastructure there is excellent and immigrants are known to work real hard.

What kind of globalisation is it, where capital and goods and culture have freedom of access, but not labour or why should SEZs only come up in the non-western world? The reason is pretty simple – globalisation is not an innocent phenomenon quite in conformity to what it propounds. Globalisation is the most contemporary form of colonization. It is, of course, different from earlier forms of colonialism. It does not involve direct political rule. The present strategy of capitalist colonialism is the creation of interconnected colonial enclaves on a global scale, involving, SEZs, new high-tech cities, pristine tourist zones and entertainment sectors. Special Economic Zones is the official form of this strategy, or Special Exploitation Zones, as Medha Patkar has described them. SEZs are enclaves where the sovereignty of the nation state is suspended, of course, willingly. Hence, capital is allowed to loot, plunder, enslave, and not pay taxes or whatever is conducive for its profits without any legal or political opposition. It is a model of efficient colonialism where the writ of global capital reigns wherever it needs and not all over the country. Meanwhile the rest of the country can remain sovereign, democratic with a constitution and rule of law, or even socialist. This vast hinterland is relegated to backwardness, misery and often civil wars. In the time of globalisation, if anything is truly global it is capital. SEZs are open to capital, which is not bound to territorial nations. Thus, even Indian or Chinese capital can become key investors in these global havens. It is pure economic sovereignty without any political or social responsibilities.

IV

Search for New Imaginaries of Development and Change

Development is no longer measured by gross national product, or investment or growth rates; rather, development is evaluated in human terms and is rechristened as human development. Amartya Sen and others have tried to identify the indices of human development in different countries and regions. As a result of these initiatives, human development reports have been published by different states in India, which are quite revealing. Kerala, which is a low income state with low levels of growth, industrialization or investment has achieved high levels of human development, in terms of the different indices of human development. This phenomenon has attracted worldwide attention and has been called the Kerala miracle. What is even more fascinating is the contrast between Kerala and West Bengal. In India, Kerala’s HDI is highest, even comparable on many counts with the west; whereas, West Bengal has become a middle level state, though its growth rate, investment or industrial development has been higher. The Kerala example has shown that important development goals can be achieved here and now.

What Bengal badly needs is a new politics, which will offer us alternative models of development and change, which can be implemented here and now. The major left argument is that no serious programme of change can be successful without first making a revolution. The right, on the other hand argue that development is dependent on capital, which we lack, and hence have to attract. In the absence of any revolutionary possibility, the left has become right and is concentrating on attracting capital for development, whereas the right has become a kind of negative left by concentrating their attack on the left’s right turn. Politics in Bengal is faced with an impasse, there seems to be no way out of this double bind. So, this becomes the most important task of this moment – imagine alternatives to get out of this impasse. So, instead of waiting for a revolution or capital for deliverance, let us work out strategies of change, with our existing resources. What can we do within this system, with all its oppressive structures and corruption and lack of capital? Let us concentrate on what we have, our resources and our possibilities, here and now.

Central to social change and development is the issue of agency. Which social class or group will lead and direct the process of change? Marxism privileges the rising classes as the agents of change; however, in the present era it reposes faith on the working class exclusively as the principal agent, as the other classes, including the bourgeoisie, no longer has any revolutionary potential. Lenin made a disingenuous move by arguing that the proletariat under capitalism is steeped in economic consciousness preventing it from radicalising its consciousness and hence, the intellectuals organised in the communist party provide the essential knowledge and leadership in making social change. With this the privileged agent of change is the communist party and the working class merely becomes the privileged instrument of change. In countries with backward capitalism, the peasantry is accorded a limited and transitory role in anti-feudal social change. But in the transition to an industrial order the peasantry’s role would reach its limit and it is likely to oppose industrialisation, unless the communist party guides it.

The fundamental challenge that democracy poses to Marxism is to question the privileged position of the party and the proletariat. Privilege is an arrogant aristocratic legacy which democracy denies. Hence, no class or knowledge system can claim privileges based on monopoly of truth or monopoly of agency. The Soviet experiment has exploded this myth.

Everybody is autonomous and everybody can claim agency. Historical change, of course, is the work of collective agents, but they are not pre-existing agents, but agents produced through common concerns and conversation and conflicts. The Marxist idea of historical space is, in the time of capitalism, global, which is why their principal slogan is ‘workers of the world unite’. Again the privileged theatre of history is the entire world, or at least, the only concession is made to the space of the nation. There are many issues, which are global or national or regional, but there are also many issues, which are local. In fact, large social and historical spaces disempower people and denude their autonomy and agency. Thus the local as the unit of democracy and human action becomes crucial, especially where technology has not expanded the unit of human operations, as in much of the third world countryside. We have to recognise the spatially layered nature of human activity and living and corresponding to these spaces there has to be spheres of autonomy and agency. Of course, linkages have to be established between these levels, but each level has to be recognised as autonomous spaces of human living and action.

Besides the question of agency, we also have to address other issues like, institutions and ideology, and ethics and aesthetics. Marxists are deeply suspicious of all existing institutions, as they believe that these are instruments for protecting the interests of the ruling classes only. Even if they can be temporarily used, in the long run either they would thwart revolutions or revolutions would sweep them away. Democracy has fundamentally opened up new possibilities for working within institutions and in the process reforming them or even transforming them in fundamental ways. Democracy even offers possibilities of creating new institutions. Institutions can become crucial sites of contest. Closely related to institutions is the question of ideology. What are the systems of beliefs, norms, knowledge, values and practices that are considered to be just and legitimate? Is there any single criterion of truth to determine the validity of any ideology? Or is ideology to be subjected to the canons of democracy and made the subject of human conversation and hope to come up with consensus on issues attracting immediate action. Ideologies like Marxism are contrary to the democracy of the human imagination.

Marxists in class divided societies look upon ethics with askance; the ethical, to them, is coterminous with the revolution and the post-revolutionary society. Everything else is merely a means, and eminently justified to attain the revolutionary goal. Consequently, all institutions, including democracy, the rule of law and the constitution can be treated with scant respect and subverted when necessary. Even human beings become means. It can rightly be objected that the CPM has abandoned revolution and hence there is no reason for treating existing institutions or people as instruments. In a stroke of discursive disingeniuty the CPM has redefined its goal in terms of stages. The final stage, however elusive, lurks on the horizon, but what becomes more important is to stay in power and develop and improve the condition of Bengal and its people. Hence, staying in power and development become the new goals and everything else; including faith in the revolution, become merely means. The CPM’s Stalinist belief, of course a Stalinism tempered by electoral democracy, defines its basic attitude towards development, democracy, and industrialisation. This has had disastrous consequences for the social and moral fibre of Bengal, for both the individual as well as the republican pursuit of virtue and character. Any alternative imaginary of development and change has to bring back in the ethical, where each and every person will be treated equally and with respect and will be equally entitled to live a full and free life. This entails every person is equally entitled to the earth and its resources and a just share in the products of collective and cooperative human labour. To Marxists, the other is an enemy, a class enemy against whom a war has to be waged, to defeat him. This makes violence legitimate. As against this war ethic, we have to converse with the other, criticise, debate and discuss, where violence has no place. Closely related to the ethical is the aesthetic. The good and the beautiful are crucial matters of deliberation. How and where do we seek the good and the beautiful, in material abundance and mastery over nature or in a life of the mind, both intellectual and cultural, and in close harmony with nature?

Towards an Alternative Imaginary of Development and Change

Marxists’ romance with the idea of insurrectionary models of revolution has undermined the possibilities of democracy and has made revolution a sacred ideal, beyond any questioning. Revolutions may be contingently necessary, but in other times we have to draw up strategies of development and change, which could be legitimately argued and implemented then and there. In this context, we need to seriously rethink the possibilities of justice, under conditions of democracy, in the Indian Constitution. I would, in particular, highlight a crucial chapter of our constitution, which has been totally forgotten; but a chapter which is as full of possibilities as some of the world’s greatest manifestoes, like the American Declaration of Independence, the French Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizen and the Communist Manifesto. I am referring particularly to the Directive Principles of State Policy, read along with the chapter on Fundamental Rights and the Preamble and the system of self-government at the local level in the Indian Constitution. These provide us with a vision of justice, which can be used not only to judge the development policies and goals of the Indian state but also to be used as a guide for action and a vision of the future.

We are all familiar with our Fundamental Rights, which are justiciable, i.e., enforceable by law courts. The Directive Principles (DP), on the other hand, is not justiciable. It was a promise of justice made by the founders of the Indian Constitution, but unfortunately an unredeemed promise. If we have to fight for justice let us invoke what has been promised in the Constitution itself; it makes for greater acceptability. The DP makes the state responsible for ‘securing and protecting as effectively as it may a social order in which justice, social economic and political, shall inform all the institutions of the national life.’(Art. 38.1) It lays down basic principles of justice and expounds new rights and calls for new institutions to secure justice. Art.38.2 states:

‘The state shall, in particular, strive to minimise the inequalities in income, and endeavour to eliminate inequalities in status, facilities and opportunities, not only among individuals but also amongst groups of people residing in different areas or engaged in different vocations.’

It adds ‘that the ownership and control of the material resources of the community are so distributed as best to subserve the common good;’(Art.39b) and ‘that the operation of the economic system does not result in the concentration of wealth and means of production to the common detriment;’(Art.39c).

Besides, the standard rights guaranteed in the Fundamental Rights, the DP enunciates some very important new rights like, ‘the right to an adequate means of livelihood’. (Art.39a) It also calls for ‘securing the right to work, to education and to public assistance in cases of unemployment, old age, sickness and disablement, and in other cases of undeserved want.’(Art.41) It further directs the state to secure to all workers ‘a living wage, conditions of work ensuring a decent standard of life and full enjoyment of leisure and social and cultural opportunities and, in particular, the State shall endeavour to promote cottage industries on an individual or cooperative basis in rural areas.’(Art.43)

The DP makes another very important injunction about our political institutions. Art.40 says:

‘The State shall take steps to organise village panchayats and endow them with such powers and authority as may be necessary to enable them to function as units of self-government.’

Under Rajiv Gandhi’s initiative the Constitution was amended for making panchayati raj mandatory. Art.243G entrusts panchayats and muncipalities to prepare and implement plans and schemes for economic development and social justice at the local level. They are also empowered to levy taxes and duties. Further, a District Planning Committee has to be set up, to consolidate the plans prepared by panchayats and municipalities in the district, and to prepare draft plan for the district as a whole. (Art.243ZD) Panchayats for the first time institutionalises direct democracy and the representation of women. With this India embarked on the world’s largest and greatest experiments in democracy and self-government at the grass roots level. Of course, not many states have enacted adequate and appropriate laws for their effective implementation, and nor have the people and political parties and organisations been able to realise its potential and possibilities. The only exception is the Kerala Shastra Sahitya Parishad led movement for a peoples’ plan in Kerala. Panchayati raj almost promises Gandhi’s dream of India as constituted by self-governing village republics. This vision is truly a recipe for revolution, albeit a peaceful and democratic revolution. We often blame constitutions and laws for being inadequate, but in our case it is the people and their leaders, organisations and representatives who have failed miserably to make adequate use of our Constitution. Unfortunately most of our radical or popular democratic mass movements have not fully explored the democratic possibilities in our Constitution and this includes movements as far apart as the Narmada Bachao Andolan or the Maoists. Of course, in many parts of rural India feudal power prevents any kind of democratic politics, where popular resistance has to be first built alongside formal democratic participation. Some social movements have successfully appealed to the higher courts to pass orders, which have made way for the mid-day meal for children or the right to food and work. Another major achievement of popular movements is the Right to Information Act. But in almost all these cases none of these movements or organisations participates in the formal democratic process, from panchayats to parliament.

It should be remembered that the above articles of the constitution enables the legislature to pass necessary laws. The laws either have not been enacted or they are caricatures of the intention and the possibilities of the constitution. This is best reflected in another radical feature of our constitution, namely, the right to property, or actually its gradual elimination from the chapter on fundamental rights. This makes for radical possibilities. The Indian Constitution enables capital or high-end urban land to be acquired by the state without any compensation. Yet there is no law on our statute books which can say takeover excess land allotted to factories or the land of closed units, as was very rightly pointed out by the Left government in Bengal when they wanted to give land to the Tatas. But for more than a century there is a law to compulsorily acquire agricultural and forestland, and all governments, including communist ones, make best use of this colonial legacy. As a result, the absence of the right to property has actually enabled the government, including communist governments, to actively help capital in its primitive accumulation process of expropriating the peasantry of its land and livelihood. It is the greatest fraud on the Constitution because the right to property was removed from the chapter on fundamental rights through a protracted legal and political battle, primarily to abolish feudal landlordism, and distribute land to the tiller and to battle big capital. And the left in India played no mean part in this exercise. Yet, today the absence of the right to property helps capital and the state to deny the peasantry any legal remedy against the forcible acquisition of agricultural land.

Given these constitutional possibilities what kind of development strategy can we imagine? In this concluding part, we shall very schematically outline some strategies in different spheres. First, we must identify the spatial unit of development; is it the state or region, the nation or, as in vogue, the entire globe? Though capital and technology operate at the global level, the people overwhelmingly work and live at the local level, in villages and towns. Hence if development has to be people-driven and sustainable, we have to operate at the local level. Though the focus should be on villages or gram panchayats and towns, there are many issues, which have to be addressed at the district level by coordinating village level work. Most states or provinces in India are larger than independent nation states and districts are large enough to handle macro issues. Of course, necessary linkages would be made with the outside world. This means the focus of political activity, including popular campaigns, must be primarily pitched at the district level. If districts become autonomous and democratic units of self-government then all questions of development and change should be decided by the people of the district and not by the market, or the central state or party or capital.

Earlier, we spoke of agency and had questioned the privileges claimed by the proletariat and the communist party. The kind of development perspective, I am proposing calls for two kinds of agents; first, is all labouring people, and second is a key public institution, namely, a suitably modified education system. This is the political prerequisite of any egalitarian development model. Centralised political parties, all over the world, have usurped political power usually by allying with elites and powerful social classes. The most authoritarian and efficient political machinery was conceived by Lenin in his famous 1904 tract, ‘What is to be Done?’ As a reaction to this phenomenon there has been a shift in favour of voluntary social action, or the NGO sector as it is popularly called; and new social movements – raising a host of issues, like, environment, development, gender, human rights, the rights of the oppressed and the marginalized, et cetera. Jai Prakash Narayan and Rajni Kothari strongly advocated this development and called it the non-party political process. JP even called for building a non-party democracy in India.

The question of organisation is important; the alternative to political parties is not the banishing of all kinds of political organisations, but re-conceiving the form and nature of political organisations, so that they could be prevented from usurping power and creates a situation, where the space of popular initiatives ever expands. The complexity and diversity of Indian society makes unified political parties an authoritarian patron and benefactor of the people and not their representative. Thus peoples’ organisations must take more and more the form of a platform or network or front of different organisations, each operating with a large measure of autonomy. In other words, a broad social coalition of the labouring people must be built based on a common agreement on justice. The fundamental rights and the directive principles of the Indian constitution provide us with a broad paradigm of justice. This social coalition and political platform or coalition must be built from below, at the district level. These district-level efforts must be coordinated at the state-level as well. It is crucial for this platform to participate in the formal democratic process, especially elections and the running of panchayats and municipalities. In other words, existing non-party social and political movements and organisations, like human rights groups, peasant organisations or women’s groups etc., should not only continue to do what they are doing but also must come together in larger political platforms or fronts and assume more political responsibility. This is not a task which is as difficult as it appears to be, because there are many organisations and movements which exist and work independently; they have to be brought together to share a common perspective on justice and assume greater political responsibility. Initially, district or block-level conferences of these organisations and concerned people can start the process of building a district-level political front or platform. Political parties willing to join this coalition can also be involved. For realising self-government at the local level, these platforms must demand a radical restructuring of political power from the state to the districts and villages.

The other key agent and tool of development and change is the education system. Education has always been used to cater to the economic and ideological needs of dominant social forces. Today, education is increasingly geared to the requirements of global capitalism; instead of meeting people’s needs our education system acts as a gigantic sieve, which continuously eliminates students who do not meet the needs of global capital. The others find places in subaltern layers of the economy or administration. As a result, the education system involves waste and incompetence on a colossal scale. The other obscene feature of this system is that the doors of education are permanently closed to a huge number of children. The idols of our education today, are the IITs and IIMs – providing technological and managerial skills to service global capital. The emancipatory possibilities of education have been transformed into world-class technical skills and services, subsidised by the Indian state, needed by global capital.

If education has to serve our people and our community from the lowest level, we need to make major changes in the goals, content and structure of education. The education system produces and reproduces knowledge, skills and different cultural practices, like art and music. The education system in India is split into two compartments, with internal hierarchies in each. The first is the formal or official system and the other is traditional. We are more familiar with the formal system of schools and colleges, but there is a large pool of knowledge, skills and cultural practices, which are produced and reproduced within traditional society, sometimes formally, more often informally. Agriculture, traditional industries and crafts, traditional medicine, folk arts and our whole repertoire of music and dance, both folk and classical forms continue to flourish by this informal system of education, which is often local and regional. In fact, the most important contribution of India to world knowledge and culture is in the field of Indian philosophy and music, and traditional institutions, both formal and informal, largely sustain both of them. A large part of the modern system is marked by massive waste, redundancy and parasitism; whereas, because of want of proper institutional support many traditional knowledge systems and skills are simply becoming extinct. The crucial question is what role could these systems of knowledge play in building a just, good and beautiful society?

We had proposed the district as the most feasible unit of development and democracy; likewise, in the sphere of education too, the district should be the key unit of operation to cater to the diversity of culture, knowledge, skills and needs. It follows that every district must contain the key institutions of education, namely, schools, colleges, including technical and professional colleges, and a university. These institutions, instead of being pale and emaciated copies of global institutions, must have a distinct character and function of their own. They would be expected to perform the following roles: first, they would primarily serve the knowledge based needs, both theoretical and practical, of the people of the district; secondly, they would bridge the divide between the modern and the traditional systems of knowledge by opening up to the other and by mutual respect and learning; finally, no society or institution can flourish if it is closed, hence, district universities particularly, should be open to the outside world.

This plan at first sight, appears formidable in terms of resources – where are the trained people and the money? Since my plan is based on the politics of here and now, rather than wait for the revolution or for the mega funds to set up fancy institutions, we need to spell out an action plan with existing resources. Almost all districts have colleges and hospitals, but people running them are either poorly trained or are under utilised, especially in colleges. To start with, a leading college could be awarded autonomous status and deserving teachers could be brought there from the district or even from outside and gradually it could be further upgraded into a postgraduate college or university. District level hospitals could be used for medical education, at least at the diploma, if not graduate level; the non-clinical subjects could be taught at the district university or any college and some advance part of the medical education could be conducted at other state level medical colleges. So without much extra expenditure a university or a medical college could be set up. Engineering colleges are already coming up. What is more important and challenging is reorienting university and technological and medical education by integrating with traditional knowledge systems and addressing the needs of the district.

There are not only two systems of knowledge, but two systems of needs as well. Modern needs, like building a concrete house is addressed by the modern knowledge system, but traditional needs, like improving the quality of a mud house, is left unaddressed. And most people like in mud houses or in shacks and slums. This is where the two systems of knowledge and skills must integrate, learning from each other. The best example of such an enterprise is the work of Laurie Baker in Kerala.4 On a much larger scale the two systems of knowledge and needs must meet and interact at the school level. Our modern method and content of schooling is essentially a device to colonise the minds of our people, first by the British and now by their Indian disciples. Our schools have to undergo three kinds of transformation, first, schooling must liberate us, emancipate us; for that it should be a place for creativity, critical thinking and play. Secondly, it should be related to the life experiences of the students and their community; and finally, the content of education should be based on both modern and traditional systems of knowledge and needs. To start with this requires that students in schools study, in addition to science and maths, agriculture and local art and crafts. This means there would be an additional lot of teachers, who would be the local peasant, the potter, the weaver, the blacksmith, the folk singer or the cook. The school would be the meeting ground for interaction and learning and improvement of new and old knowledge and needs. Institutionalised support for research and critical thinking and interaction with modern sciences could overcome the ossification, which has come about over several centuries, in most traditional knowledge systems and practices. This again can be done now and here. The other imperative is to universalise school education, which in turn, would considerably solve the problem of unemployed graduates.

Any alternative development strategy requires serious thinking and research and planning. Planning presupposes a detailed mapping of the resources and needs and possibilities of the entire district, starting from the villages. This again, at first glance, appears to be a mind-boggling task. It does not require the central Planning Commission to be replicated at every district. Schools, colleges and universities of the district, including teachers and students, can primarily do the theoretical and technical aspects of resource mapping and planning. Public participation in the development process can be ensured by different political organisations and platforms and the democratic decision-making will obviously be done by the panchayats. The KSSP led people’s plan campaign5 in Kerala showed the relevance and feasibility of such an exercise by the people. Such autonomous district level plans would ensure that many experiments would be conducted in different districts and only their results will enable us to judge the merits of different development strategies. Any such development plan must address some of the following issues and problems:

Agriculture It is now officially admitted that agriculture in West Bengal has reached the limits of the possibilities of land reforms; in fact, agriculture is facing a crisis. Input costs is rising rapidly leading to steep decline in profits from agricultural produce, which in turn is causing reverse leasing and loss of land by poor peasants. There has been a phenomenal rise in the number of agricultural labourers, resulting in large scale out migration, including trafficking. Agriculture seems to be unable to sustain the village population. In spite of left propaganda rural poverty does not seem to go down. The LF government has come up with two major strategies; first, they are advocating modern industrialisation on a large scale to absorb the rural poor and secondly, they are trying to get out of this crisis by inviting big capital, like Reliance, to properly buy, store and market the rural produce. The first claim is an outright lie; modern industry is extremely capital intensive and whatever workforce it employs is highly skilled. It, of course has need for domestics, drivers, security guards and so on. The introduction of large firms and modern marketing methods would generate greater incomes for bigger farmers, but it is likely to make food even scarcer for the poor; in fact, agricultural production patterns would change in favour of crops having a high demand among the rich, further generating hunger among the poor.

Other solutions like cooperatives, higher support prices for agricultural produce, further land reforms, including land to the tiller and a serious reconsideration of modern agricultural technology have to be explored.

Village Industries: The surplus population, both in villages and cities, can be absorbed in what has been called village industries, that is, traditional technology based artisanal and craft production, like weaving, pottery, etc. Two major changes have to be made here, first, village industries must interact with modern science for making improvements in products, design and technology, secondly, these must try to replace factory made goods. If we look at our every day life we can easily identify many factory or machine made goods, which can be replaced by existing or suitably modified traditional products. Some examples could help draw up such a strategy, like replacing plastic waste-paper baskets by bamboo ones, using traditional insulation material for keeping modern houses cool, like palm leaf mats; replacing all towels in government offices or even in our homes by gamchhas; replacing synthetic carpets and mats by traditional mats; or weavers of gamchhas could be encouraged to weave cushion covers and table cloths; popularising palm leaf hats or tokas to protect us from heat and rain; we just have to innovate, which will give a precious jolt to our stagnant and dying rural technology. Hand made products are not only beautiful, but consume far less energy and are ecologically sustainable. Similarly human labour could be used much more extensively even in modern cities like rickshaws and cycles lanes could be earmarked especially in newly planned towns.

Industry: The CPM’s attitude towards capitalist industrialisation has truly undergone a revolutionary transformation; earlier, it believed that under conditions of imperialism capitalist industrialisation is impossible and whatever industry existed the CPM fought a determined battle to get a better bargain for labour. It supported industry in the public sector and small and medium national capital. The left’s militancy drove industry out of Bengal and the left too was defeated in the early the 1970s resulting in a historic compromise with capital and the state. The left particularly after the 1990s went all out to attract investments; in fact, it now equated development with investments. What could a pro-people attitude towards industry be? Since industry per se will not generate employment or eradicate poverty, but is likely to create an enclave model of development, resulting in a situation of internal colonialism, setting conditions for investments will not harm the people. So the state can lay down certain parameters like spatial location or even the kind of industry to be set up, for example, is the motorcar industry as important as say goods needed by ordinary people or industries which are ecologically sustainable. It has been argued by eminent economists, like Amartya Sen that the state today is starved of capital and hence has to accept whatever an investor dictates. Then, why not allow the Tatas to set up their people’s car project in the Kolkata maidan, where customers can just walk into the car factory to buy a real cheap car straight from the assembly line, thus eliminating trade margins entirely? It would then cost Rs.80, 000.00 only.

Political Struggles: Ultimately, any strategy of development is determined by politics, by political struggles and people’s political power. This requires the broadest possible people’s front assisted by public institutions like the education system and by participating in democratic institutions.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

The Use and Abuse of Democracy in West Bengal

http://www.epw.org.in/uploads/articles/11212.pdf

By Sanjeeb Mukherjee


We are living in the age of democracy; not because all
countries in the world are democratic, but for the fact
that the popular aspiration for democracy is almost
universal and the fact that even authoritarian states seek legitimacy
in the name of democracy. Tocqueville way back in the 19th century
remarked “that a great democratic revolution is going on among
us”.1 In spite of the unprecedented
popularity of democracy, the
meaning of the idea of democracy is still quite minimally voiced –
it is most often restricted to periodic elections and representative
government. Often some more elements are added on to this thin
idea of democracy,
like human rights, the rule of law, an independent
judiciary, a free press and so on. The socialist experience in
the Soviet bloc led to the realisation of the importance of an autonomous
civil society for the existence of democracy. In the west,
often considered to be the exemplars of democracy, money and the
media have robbed the people of any effective role in the democratic
process. This has brought back the importance of the republican
ideals of popular participation and deliberations
in public affairs.
Finally, the third world experiment with democracy has given us
two vital lessons: first, it has exploded the myth that democracy
can only operate in social situations which have undergone the
experience of European modernity and secondly, the unending
series of rebellions and movements against authoritarian regimes
in country after country remind us not only of the popular aspiration
for democracy
but also the relevance of democratic revolutions.
1 T he Idea of Democracy
The idea and practice of democracy has travelled long and wide
making it a complex concept continuously subject to both newer
possibilities as well as restrictions. I wish to disaggregate democracy
into the following dimensions:
(i) Procedural Democracy: This is the standard understanding
of democracy basically hinged on the constitution, laws, elections,
separation of powers, an independent judiciary and other
such legal-constitutional devices.
(ii) Spheres of Democracy: The narrow notion of democracy is
restricted to the governmental process. Now it is widely accepted
that there are other spaces, both public and private, which should
be autonomous of the state and these spaces and institutions
should also be democratic. This is the idea of civil society or the
democratisation of the family or even the democratisation of the
economy and the workplace.
(iii) The Culture of Democracy: Social and political theorists
are increasingly recognising the importance of culture for understanding
society. Culture refers to the values, meanings
and attitudes which people have about anything; which underlies
all human action and institutions and which alone can help
us make sense of any social phenomenon. If society primarily
privileges the private individual and celebrates freedom as the
free choices of the private individual requiring a kind of guard or
fence to keep society at bay then the participatory or deliberative
traditions of democracy are heavily discounted; or if society is
structured along a caste hierarchy then democracy is subverted
for equality is central to democracy. Democracy presupposes a
culture, which values the ideals of equal and universal citizenship
– deliberating public issues and active participation and a
sense of responsibility in public affairs. This is the republican
ethos of democracy that is as old as Aristotle.
Marxists have been fiercely critical of the liberal model of democracy
as a kind of an enchantment, which both masks as well as legitimises
capitalism and its attendant inequalities and oppression.
However, Marxists approve of two kinds, and uses of democracy;
first, they uphold the democratic revolution against feudalism as
part of the onward march of history toward socialism; and secondly,
they uphold a radical and different model of democracy
for the proletariat which they paradoxically call the “dictatorship
of the proletariat”, which, of course, in the light of the soviet experiment,
came to be the dictatorship of the communist party.
In this essay, we shall critically examine the state of democracy,
in the thicker sense of the term, in West Bengal today. The
journey of democracy in Bengal has taken many an interesting
turn and twist. An orthodox communist party still publicly loyal
to Lenin and Stalin is in power here for almost three decades.
After a brief survey of the trajectory of democracy in Bengal, we
shall interrogate the Marxist theoretical position on democracy.
This will be followed by an examination of the record of democracy
in Bengal since 1977 when the Communist Party of India (Marxist)
led government came to power. This essay is largely an attempt
to theorise the left’s engagement with democracy in Bengal.
2 Democracy in West Bengal 1947-67
The history of democracy in India is, indeed, particularly peculiar;
it was almost thrust upon the people through what may be termed
a pre-emptive democratic revolution by the elites who formed the
constituent assembly, which was itself based on an extremely
narrow franchise and it could easily have devised a benignly
authoritarian polity to supervise India’s transition to modernity
and democracy. Not that there was no popular aspiration, but it
was not the dominant voice to shape the destiny of democracy at
its birth. Hence, when the new Constitution was promulgated, it
was an unprecedented model of a democracy from above which
enjoyed the support of the people from below. This was made
possible because of two main reasons; first, India’s dominant
classes and elites by leading the national movement came to establish
a kind of political hegemony over the people and secondly,
popular participation in the national movement schooled the
people to successfully run a future democracy. This political
hegemony of the elites is best reflected in the Congress Party’s
ability to win until quite recently, continuously, all elections in
both the states as well as in the centre. In fact, at the all India level,
in the last 56 years, only one opposition coalition could complete
a full term in office; the rest of the period the Congress has
ruled except for three of four short lived opposition governments.
Until recently, this was also largely true for most Indian states.
West Bengal is, in many senses, an exceptional state. The career
of democracy too has charted a rather different course in
this state. The Nehru era in Indian politics, which lasted till the
1967 elections, saw the political hegemony of the Congress over
the entire Indian polity. In West Bengal though the Congress
ruled the state till 1967, it faced a serious counter hegemonic
challenge from the communists. In the inter-war and post war
years, the left dramatically emerged in the political scene through
continuous and intense forms of political mobilisation, unionisation,
serious cultural intellectual interventions and party building.
Intellectuals, students, the youth, the lower layers of the
middle class and the organised working class were the major support
basis of the left. It also had pockets of influence among the
peasantry and the rural poor.
Left’s Major Contribution
The left’s major contribution to the democratic experiment in
Bengal was threefold – first; it highlighted and led the struggle for
the anti-feudal democratic transformation of both, the agrarian
society and the culture of Bengal. Secondly, through its intellectualcultural
interventions and popular mobilisation the left laid the
foundations of a critical-deliberative republican democratic culture
in the state. The communists then unaware of Gramsci’s writings
actually embarked on a politics of critical discourse to establish
left counter hegemony. Thirdly, it negotiated a difficult dialogue
between orthodox Marxist politics to which it adhered and its
actual participation in what it called a bourgeois parliamentary
democracy. There were many strands in this difficult dialogue.
The received communist doctrine regarded liberal democracies,
as mere masks to hide and legitimise capitalist exploitation and
oppression and in the face of a truly popular challenge these
democracies
would show their real bourgeois-authoritarian face.
Hence, “true” communists would have to make an armed revolution
to overthrow the state and usher in a superior peoples’ democracy.
However, the USSR, in the wake of its post war victory, advocated
the possibility of a peaceful transition to socialism through
parliamentary democracy. In fact, the mid-1960s saw the beginning
of a trigonal split in Indian communism. First, the CPM
emerged to uphold a more revolutionary strategy as against the
old CPI, which came to uphold the Soviet inspired peaceful transition
thesis. Then, in 1969, the CPI (Marxist-Leninist) was
formed to make an immediate armed revolution. Over time, the
CPI(M) emerged as the most powerful left force. The CPM’s attitude
towards parliamentary democracy was more complex and
nuanced. It whole-heartedly participated in parliament, but with
a bad faith as it did not aim to achieve any substantial move towards
its promised transition, but it still wanted to make strategic
use of the democratic opportunities the constitution offered.
It also combined parliamentary struggles with militant mass movements
and left led unionisation of all strata of the people. In this
process, the left both strengthened and subverted democracy at
the same time. They strengthened the critical-deliberative and participatory dimensions of democracy and considerably undermined
the constitutional democratic process and institutions including
public institutions, which are central to the healthy functioning
of democracy.
3 R adicalisation of West Bengal, 1967-72
The year 1967 marks a major milestone in the difficult dialogue
between the left and democracy in Bengal. In 1967, the communists
were a major part of the united front government. It gave a decisive
spurt to the radicalisation of society and politics in Bengal in
the form of heightened militant mass movements, unionisation
and cultural – intellectual interventions by the left. Left inspired
mass movements could not be contained within the limits of constitutional
democracy. A more radical section of the left attempted
to make an armed revolution against the existing social order
and the state. The central government viewed the situation as a
breakdown of the constitutional order, which led to the dismissal
of the government. But the left came back to power resting on
popular support to form another United Front government in
1969, which shared the same fate.
This period between the mid-1960s till the early 1970s was extremely
volatile; it saw both a heightening of the democratic
ethos as well as a subversion and attack on democratic institutions
and culture. At the social level, the anti-feudal struggle, especially
in the agrarian sector, played a major role in the democratisation
of society. This period also witnessed the flowering of
the radical republican spirit of intense public debates and participation
in the political process. However, since the left was deeply
suspicions of the existing democratic institutions and the state, it
had scant regard for the laws and norms of the Constitution; in
fact, it expressly curbed, subverted and attacked these on the
ground that these existed to protect class privilege and power.
These moves invited state action against the left and confirmed
their deep suspicions. Not only did the relation between the left
and the state turn hostile but also the divisions within the left
about the understanding of the situation and on questions of
strategy soon converted intellectual and political debates into
violent clashes. Things came to such a pass that left gang wars,
especially in urban areas, seemed to push the state towards a
civil war. The central government took this opportunity to crush
the entire left by using state terror and repression. The democratic
process in Bengal came under severe attack from all quarters
leading to a kind of a semi-fascist regime of the Congress in 1972
through an extensively rigged election.
Both the formal democratic institutions as well as the culture
of democracy and a vibrant civil society were all brutally attacked
and repressed by the Congress regime between 1972 and 1977.
Since democracy was already deeply mauled since the early
1970s, Bengal did not experience the emergency between 1975
and 1977 the way the rest of India suffered it when the formal
democratic process was suspended all over the country.
4 T he Intermediate Regime
Following the brutal repression of the left and its formal defeat in
the 1972 elections, the parliamentary left and the middle classes,
which, at first was in a state of disarray, soon made a historic
compromise with, both the state and capitalism in India. It
withdrew from its militant political and cultural-intellectual interventions,
which was central to its counter-hegemonic strategy
in the 1950s and 1960s. In the 1977 elections, the Congress faced
a silent rebellion from below almost all over the country. In West
Bengal too, the Congress was thoroughly defeated and the CPM
led Left Front (LF) government came to power. In fact, since then,
this government has never been voted out of office, which again
is a record for any communist party in the world.
Apparently, 1977 was in a sense a return to the mid-1960s scenario
but if we scrutinise the left government, we find a qualitative
change in its ideology and working. Though the same classes
and the same parties came to power fundamental changes came
about them as a result of its frustrated attempts to establish its
hegemony and run governments in the 1950s and 1960s. The left
and the social classes sustaining it was a badly mauled and defeated
class, which made a historic compromise with the state
and capitalism.
Turning Point in Modern Bengal
But in spite of this compromise, 1977 marks a turning point in the
history of modern Bengal. In fact, I would characterise the change
in 1977 to be a political revolution where the old ruling classes
were dislodged from social and political power by the Bengali
‘babu’ or bhadralok particularly the lower middle classes including
teachers, clerks and the labour aristocracy in the organised
sector of the economy. The left brokered a firm alliance of this
class with the peasantry. It also enjoyed popular support among
the poor both in the cities and the countryside. It was almost a
classic instance of Michael Kalecki’s2 idea of an intermediate
regime.
Our received idea of revolution is the recurrence of a cataclysmic
event on the likes of what happened in France, Russia or
China; but if we define revolution, especially political revolution,
following Lenin3 as the transfer of state power from the hands of
one class to another then the attendant events no longer become
central. Hence, if 1977 can be described as the rise to political
power and not just government formation of a new class we may
as well describe it as a revolution.
If the uniqueness of the patterns of historical change is accepted
then our conceptual categories have to be freed from their
specific historical associations and models. Over time, this political
ruling class formed a powerful bloc consisting of the middle
classes, middle and rich peasants, and contractors. The social
core of the middle class providing leadership to this bloc consists
of teachers and clerks. There are some fundamental structural
constraints of such an intermediate regime. This ruling class,
particularly the middle class, is primarily political in nature, in
the sense that its sustenance and well-being is derived from the
state and its revenues, i e, from the social surplus. State power is
used to benefit itself in the form of jobs, privileges, influence, etc,
as a result the revenue of the state is exhausted in paying salaries,
pensions and other subsidies and relief. This causes an acute fiscal
crisis leaving the state with no funds for developing social and
economic infrastructure or to provide for the basic needs of the
poor, which is essential for the long-term development of any
society. This fiscal crisis leads to an impasse which compels the left to surrender to capitalism on the one hand and to take unpopular
moves which alienates its own social constituents and support bases.
The change in economic and social policies of the LF government
since the 1990s is directly related to attempts to get out of the impasse
and the fiscal crisis. This ruling class, unlike the bourgeoisie,
lives off the social surplus but is itself unable to organise or lead the
production of wealth. This makes it a parasitical class, which could
lead to a major contradiction between its unsustainable surplus
extraction process and its need to retain its power and legitimacy
by winning elections, which is a crucial precondition of its
political and social power. The strength of such a political ruling
class lies in its unity and organisation, which is largely achieved
by a party-controlled unionisation at every site and sphere.
The central claim to legitimacy of this new ruling class is its
ideology and its claim to represent the people, i e, the poor, the
dispossessed and the oppressed. Marxism enables the left to a
superior claim to rule based on the right knowledge of the science
of history – the laws of the progressive movement of history and
its identification with the labouring people. It gives the left a
sense of superiority and arrogance for it alone knows what is
right for the people. But being primarily a political ruling class in
a constitutional democracy it has to reinforce its ideological
claims with its ability to get the support of the people who, of
course, would know what is in their best interest. This makes
winning elections a crucial element in their bid to legitimate rule.
It also leads to the extension of the electoral principle to nearly
all sites and institutions from schools to vice-chancellors or
neighbourhood committees and clubs.
The other claim to democratisation, which is made by the left,
is its policy to bring about anti-feudal changes in agriculture and
society at large. In fact, on both counts, the legitimacy of these
intermediate classes have been vindicated by the fact of its winning
all elections since 1977. In fact, if 1977 can be called the year
of the revolution then, unlike most revolutions, it continued to
rule through democratic elections, which is an extremely difficult
task. Only by winning elections can this regime claim to represent
the majority of the people. This makes democracy, defined
in exclusively electoral terms, central to its hegemonic strategy.
The left has mastered the fine art of winning elections by a strategy
of controlled and disciplined mobilisation of the people
aimed at manufacturing consent in its favour and at delegitimising
and decimating the very idea of a legitimate opposition.
Marxist ideology gives the left a superior scientific knowledge, an
exclusive truth claim, which makes any opposition a reaction
against the just and lawful course of history. In the rest of this
paper we shall examine what happens to a constitutional democracy
when an intermediate regime led by a communist party rules.
5 I deology, Organisation and Control
A centralised, unified and disciplined organisation is central to the
power of the left and its supporting classes. If political power is the
basis of the rule of the middle classes, it can acquire power and
retain legitimacy only through popular support, best expressed
in elections. This is an extremely difficult task, which the left has
to a great extent achieved. Popular support is always rather slippery;
the people can be “temporarily swayed” by emotions or can be
“misled” by the opposition. Thus, there has to be a strategy to
both organise as well as discipline and govern the people. The
left in Bengal has almost realised the Foucauldian dystopia of
discipline and governmentality based on the intertwining of
power and knowledge. Marxist ideology and the Leninist party
provide a fatal combination of knowledge and power to perform
this task. The left has both unleashed the democratic process but
has simultaneously been able to tame and domesticate democracy
through innovative techniques of governmentality.
The left has
not only been able to establish its political hegemony over the
people but has also been able to establish its control over the
democratic constitutional state and its autonomous
organs like
the civil and police bureaucracy. First we shall examine its
power/knowledge nexus and in the next two sections the state
and civil society would be examined.
Philosophically Marxism is both, deeply anti-democratic as
well as anti-political. It claims the monopoly to historical truth
since it is based on an understanding of the laws of history, which
again Marxists claim to be as objective as Darwin’s theory of
evolution. The second and more insidious claim is that only the
working class being free of any vested interests in the existing
order can truly understand these laws of historical progress
inevitably leading to socialism and communism. Lenin made a
further disingenuous move by arguing that given the existing
situation of the workers under capitalism, achieving revolutionary
consciousness of the Marxist variety is near impossible. This
is where intellectuals have to step in to perform their role as the
interpreters of real history and as the philosophical and political
educators and leaders of the proletariat. This is achieved through
the communist party and its claim to be the repository of truth
based on science, reason and the study of history.
It follows that whoever opposes the communist party actually
opposes science and truth and the inevitable forward march of
history. Such opposition can come from two quarters: those having
a vested interest in the old order like feudal landlords or the
bourgeoisie or it can come from a lack of knowledge of the laws of
history and the role of the communist party. The latter kind of
opposition can be removed initially by education and persuasion
but if it fails, methods that are more coercive are justified against
the carriers of a corrupt consciousness, who are unable to discern
their own objective interests. They are forced to acknowledge
reason, history and truth; almost “forced to be free”. The older
exploiting classes are usually more incorrigible and are thus considered
to be enemies against whom a class war has to be waged
till they are defeated. Hence, politics and democracy in the sense
of freedom, autonomy and debate is deeply discounted in the
Marxist scheme of things.
It could, of course, be countered by the view that the CPM no
longer believes in such a Marxist orthodoxy; but I would argue
that this orthodox belief system provide the left with a legitimising
discourse to undermine and crush the legitimacy of the very
idea of an opposition. The CPM needs to explain how it can defend
Stalinism or even the absurd communist versions of democracy
in the socialist bloc. Such verbal monstrosities like the “democratic
dictatorship of the proletariat and the peasantry” can only
make sense in terms of this knowledge-power nexus of Marxism. Marxist ideology in the service of the CPM has become a mere
means to its end of retaining political power. In this strategic use
of Marxism, the CPM makes instrumental use of the old left
orthodoxy that the end justifies the means. Such an amoral philosophical
and political stand can ultimately lead to the justification
of grotesque or caricatured versions of the end itself and is
usually reduced to the sole end of staying in power. Or by a curious
twist staying in power is considered to be an indispensable
means to reach that elusive end.
Serious philosophical and political problems arise when a communist
party wedded to the cause of making a revolution by destroying
the liberal democratic bourgeois state has to operate
and run such a state. If the party sticks to its ideology, either it is
unable to work within the state and quits or it gives a call for
revolution. In Bengal, the CPM has charted a novel course. It has
not left the state arena to make a revolution, nor has it entirely
given up its ideology and become liberal or even bourgeois. It has
used both, Marxist ideology and the organisation of the communist
party to capture, colonise and subvert the institutions of the
state as well as the space of civil society. Marxist ideology has
provided legitimacy to this process of colonisation. The party is
considered to be above the state as well as its members. It has a
life and goal of its own and everything is subordinated to its ends.
This results in a powerful party bureaucracy, which exercises
constant control and vigilance over the government and the state.
The centralised communist party is manned by whole-timers
whose profession and passion is the party. Lenin called them
“professional revolutionaries”. Fierce loyalty to an ideology and
organisation is the hallmark of a communist; to the extent that
he can die for his party or kill those opposed to his party. The
party takes on a missionary character fired by zeal no less powerful
than any militant religion.
The communist party extends its influence and control over
the state, civil society or community through a network of mass
organisations affiliated and subordinated to the party. In fact,
party members are deputed to different social spheres like
factories, farms or colleges to organise people under the umbrella
of the party. Members with a missionary zeal take up such
“mass work” since it is believed that such organised mobilisation
is crucial for the communist goal of revolution. Work in mass
fronts is also the testing grounds for members whose career in
the party depends on such successful mass work. Thus we find
that leftists spend a lifetime of dedicated full time work in organisations
of teachers, clerks, students, workers, etc. The Leninist
concept of democratic centralism ensures centralised control
over the entire organisation.
Extent of Control
The extent of control can be gauged from these figures: The CPM has
2.84 lakh full time members; its peasant wing, the Krishak Sabha
has 1.4 crore members; its workers front, Centre of Indian Trade
Unions has 29 lakh members; its womens’ wing 36.62 lakh members;
schoolteachers’ organisation 2.3 lakhs.4 Centralised control
over such a huge network of organisations enables the party an
all-powerful and all-pervasive role. Though these are huge mass
organisations, party members working within them manage to
control them and use them to further the party’s ends. The party
has turned mechanisms of control like disciplining, punishment
and surveillance into a fine art to control its members.
These organisations are not only mobilised to win elections
but they are used as countervailing powers to control the formal
systems of power in any organisation. For example, in a university
the formal bodies are subverted by these mass organisations. If
they do not have formal control in the bodies, they resort to
standard trade union tactics to tame them and where they are
formally in these bodies – which is most often the case – they
turn them into a subordinate committee of the communist party.
As I pointed out earlier, the intermediate classes claim to rule is
based on popular consent and hence the electoral principle is extended
to a large number of organisations, including universities.
In fact, even vice chancellors (VCs) are elected in Bengal. But
what is more interesting is how the electoral college entrusted
with the task of choosing the VC is turned into a mere rubber
stamp to ratify the name already decided by the education cell of
the CPM. As a result, when the official body meets to deliberate
the names for the top job absolutely no time is spent for such deliberations.
So, the party and its mass organisations subvert what
is apparently democratic by eliminating the deliberative process
in so crucial a decision. If in some rare instance the left is unable
to form a majority to recommend their candidate, they resort to
typical trade union disruptions to prevent the formal authority to
function. This became glaringly evident when non-left candidate,
Santosh Bhattachayya, was elected the VC of the University of
Calcutta in the early 1980s.
6 T he State
The Constitution of the state is crucial to democracy. Besides an
elected legislature and a government, the other organs of the
state have to be so organised to uphold the rule of the law. To ensure
accountability and to prevent the abuse of power, various
constitutional devices have been designed to uphold principles of
autonomy and neutrality, like a system of checks and balances
and separation of powers between the different organs of the
state. In fact, the Indian Constitution goes to great length to uphold
the autonomy and neutrality of the civil and military bureaucracy
as well as the judiciary. The Constitution has two kinds
of provisions for the bureaucracy and the judiciary: one is by giving
them rights and powers to ensure their autonomy, neutrality
and authority, but it has also denied them certain rights, like joining
a political party, to ensure their independence.
The left’s theoretical understanding of these constitutional
safeguards is that they are the rear guards of class privilege and
property. Marxists argue that if the democratic face of bourgeois
rule is unsustainable the civil and military take over to defend
the ruling classes. The fact that this is almost a commonplace
historical reality does not warrant the kind of suspicion and hostility
that the left has towards the liberal constitutional principles
and arrangements. In India, the left had an additional reason
to suspect the bureaucracy, as it was a continuation of the
colonial state, where it was the “steel frame of the empire” combining
the rule of class and race. The internal structure and culture
of the colonial state and its postcolonial incarnation was to a great extent feudal. The vast lower rungs of the civil, police
and military services were treated as serfs and servants of the
officers. The left government in Bengal made considerable
efforts to internally democratise the culture of the state by
unionising and mobilising the subaltern policemen and the
clerks and peons of government offices. But in the process, they
made fundamental changes in the working of the Constitution to
the point of subverting it from within.
Left and Government Employees
What the left did was organise these government employees as a
front organisation of the CPI(M), viz, the employees’ coordination
committee. As we had seen earlier, the CPM successfully organised,
controlled and disciplined these members to act as an extension
of the party. The government and the employees’ union
have become two closely tied centres of power. The formal power
of the government is used to coerce the employees to tow the
party line. This coercion is carefully balanced with leftwing
ideology and small favours of promotions,
choice postings and
benefits for their wives and children. Over time the left’s suspicions
about the higher bureaucracy was removed as they were
found to be the loyal and willing tool of any government. In fact,
over time, through its power of promotions, postings and favour
dispersions like land in Salt Lake, foreign tours, jobs, contracts
and other sundries for their wards, the left front government has
found a trusted tool in the bureaucracy. Recently a Calcutta High
Court judge was given a highly subsidised plot in Salt Lake in
return for a favourable judgment in a petition, which had challenged
the government’s right to distribute subsidised plots in an
arbitrary fashion. The list of such subsidised plot holders was
found to be a who’s who of bureaucrats, journalists, politicians
and academics. The Supreme Court criticised Justice Bhagwati
Prasad Banerjee for his gross misconduct and ordered that his
house be auctioned to return his dues to the government. Thus, a
centralised party has managed to not only control the state machinery
but has also rendered ineffective the constitutional safeguards
like separation of powers.
Consequently, the party controlled state machinery filters out
any move by any independent citizen, which might go against the
interest and power of the left. It takes the form of refusing to take
down First Information Reports (FIRs) in police stations unless
ratified by the local party and union bosses. The partisanship of
the state machinery extends to all its functions including selection
for new jobs, contracts, grants, loans etc. In most parts of India,
citizens have to pay an underhand price for any service of the
state in the form of bribes – whose rates are fixed for different
kinds of work. It makes the bureaucracy almost predictable, rational
and objective in a perverse Weberian sense. Not that it
does not exist in several departments but that is subordinate to
the political interests of the ruling party. In fact, compared to
many other states open and fixed rates of bribery is far less the
case. Instead, there is a far greater corruption – in the republican
sense of abuse of state power and the subversion of the Constitution
and the rule of law. Thus, we find that some of the constitutional
preconditions of democracy in Bengal have been deeply
eroded from within. According to the Police Commission Report
by Pradyut Sarkar, “It is needless to emphasise that police associations
seem to have emerged as an alternative centre of authority
in the police system. In many places they have tended to usurp
control of the force and subvert its command structure.”5 Another
aspect of the subversion of the rule of law, which is a commonplace,
is simply ignoring court judgments including those invoking
the contempt of the court. The police and administration
blatantly refuse to implement court orders, which goes against
the left or its supporters.
In a large number of cases the police, hand-in-glove with public
prosecutors, again belonging to the lawyers’ front in the CPI(M),
in the judicial administration have delayed and subverted justice
where the left had indulged in large-scale murderous attacks on
the opposition. Some glaring examples of such cases include the
mass killings of Anada Margis in 1982, the near genocide in
Marichjhampi in the 1970s, the killing of 11 opposition supporters in
Suchpur village in 2000 or the Chhoto Angaria arson and murder.6
The important theoretical question that can be raised about
the communist experiment with liberal constitutional democracy
in Bengal is what safeguards must be taken about a party which
makes strategic use of constitutional democracy and with the
help of its ideology and organisation subverts its fundamental
principles and organisational arrangements. The standard bourgeois
reaction has been to ban the communist party or dismiss
them from office or take repressive and other measures to prevent
them from coming to power. Most of these tactics had been
used against the left in Bengal in the 1950s and 1960s, but they
were quite evidently undemocratic. Constitutional democracy
has to device institutional mechanisms for checking and preventing
its own subversion. A possible safeguard is the judiciary, but
then it has to expressly uphold not only the letter of the constitution
but its basic democratic aims and spirit.
7 C ivil Society and the Culture of Democracy
Now it is widely recognised that democracy is not only about
elections and parliament. Civil society and the public sphere are
important spaces for the democratic participation of the community.
In the absence of an autonomous civil society democracy
degenerates into a formal majoritarianism as happened in the
former Soviet bloc. Bengal has a fairly well entrenched civil society
and a well-developed middle class or the Bengali babu, as it is
sometimes called. The strength of the babu lay in the fact that it
was largely autonomous of any of the basic classes of society,
namely, the bourgeoisie, landlords, peasants or workers.
Though in the first two decades after independence the
Congress retained its political leadership throughout the country,
in Bengal it faced a serious political and cultural challenge from
the middle class, in alliance with other subordinate classes especially
in the sphere of modern civil society. Marxism largely
inspired this challenge. Political movements and ideological
struggles gave the babu and the civil society a certain vigour and
autonomy. New institutions and spaces emerged within civil
society like little magazines, study circles, theatre groups,
neighbourhood associations, etc. Values, virtues, social commitment
and political action, as against the ideology of individual
success were encouraged. This process reached its peak in the period from the mid-1960s
till the early 1970s when the left came to power and another
section of the left – the Maoists – staged an abortive insurrection.
As a result, sharp dissentions came about in civil society, which
could no longer be held together by the ethic of debate and discourse.
Large-scale violence disrupted civil society. The Indian state
openly used dictatorial methods to face the left challenge and
that enabled the Congress to come back to power in a widely rigged
election in 1972. The Bengali civil society was battered and controlled
by the forces of order and status quo. This was traumatic
experience for the babu. From its defeat it learnt some far-reaching
lessons – it gave up its republican virtues and non-conformism.
In 1977 the communists came back to power but the paradox of
its victory came in the wake of the defeat and pessimism of the
middle class – the left defeated the Congress not through any
mass resurgence of its earlier strength, but in the secrecy of the
ballot booth where singular rejections of the Congress spawned a
collective verdict. Its pessimism and defeat robbed the babu of its
earlier ability to publicly debate and collectively intervene in the
public sphere and civil society. This was not a temporary setback
for the left was in no mood to revive the spirit of the 1960s.
Rather, along with the babu, the left made a historic compromise
with the state and capitalism. As a result, Bengali civil society
changed fundamentally. The babu made a dramatic exit from the
public sphere into domesticity and individualism. Having failed
to realise the left utopia, now the babu redoubled its efforts to
make it within the system itself.
The erosion of civil society is closely linked to the loss of autonomy
and initiative of the babu. This is clearly evident in the decline
of the public debates and little magazines, the withering of
autonomous public institutions and the political passivity of the
babu. It is in this context that one can make sense of the CPM’s
concerted strategy to control civil society.7 First, it has sought to
wrest control over all-important public institutions like universities
or even local clubs and associations. The important point is
that the CPM has “democratically” managed to achieve this feat,
and it is no mean achievement for it has all the trappings of what
Gramsci would call social hegemony. Most public institutions are
democratically run, i e, elected bodies run the show. The CPM has
so efficiently managed to win elections on a large-scale because
it has a well-oiled machinery to conduct elections,8 which is no
match for people who have not made electioneering a full time
occupation. The left has also mastered the art of manipulating
the electoral game in every possible way to ensure its victory.
Muffling of Dissent
At a more substantial level democracy is subverted by the systematic
muffling of dissent, especially dissent critical of the regime.
Intellectuals in Bengal constitute a distinct social category and
had played a major role in creating a culture of democracy in civil
society by free and critical thinking in all aspects of life of the
mind – from serious discursive thinking to art and poetry. The
left has sapped the critical spirit of the intellectuals through an
intricate and elaborate mechanism involving the control of the
work place through its ability to give jobs, promotions, crumbs,
sponsorship or freebies. When these do not work the left has
openly resorted to violence and terror. If for any reason the left
control mechanism misfires especially in public institutions then
a trade union assault is orchestrated to paralyse its activity. The
left can dead beat any institution because of its long experience
in organising the politics of the work place under party controlled
unions which acts as conduits for furthering the power of the party.
History has shown that there is a fundamental transformation
of the left when it comes to power. Outside power it is a
militant champion of democracy and rights but when it is comfortably
ensconced in power it evolves a deadly recipe for leftfascism
whose ingredients are – Marxist ideology, Leninist
party and the Stalinist state. I am not arguing that the left regime
in West Bengal is fully fascist but it has successfully subverted
democracy and a kind of soft fascism is in the making.
8 T he Left and the Opposition
Philosophically communism does not admit any legitimate opposition
because of its claim to Truth based on Science and Reason.
In fact, the left political rhetoric is conducted in the language and
imagery of war and enemies. Politics is the expression of the
struggle between warring classes where the historically prior
classes and state forms are considered as enemies to be defeated
and exterminated; otherwise, being a war, the communists
would be finished off. Both the classical republican idea of
politics, as found in ancient Greece or the modern liberal idea is
based on free debate, judgment and choice on the part of the
individual citizen.
In Bengal too, any political opposition to the left is treated as a
reaction to historical progress bring introduced by the left. This
not only undermines the legitimacy of the very idea of a political
opposition and criticism but it also sanctions the use of any
means, including coercion, to crush them. Any opposition to the
left is, by definition, intentionally or not, a tool of the older ruling
classes to regain political power. Theoretically, Marxism does not
admit differences. Even their main slogan in a recent election
smacked of such a monist mentality when they chanted that,
“The only alternative to the Left Front is a better Left Front”.
Slowly a lot of evidence has been documented by different
rights groups, activists and some journalists to show to what
extent the opposition is subjected to hate and violence.9 Left
terror has instilled such widespread fear among the people who
are even mildly critical of them. Bengali intellectuals who had a
long critical and activist tradition have largely been silenced.
Some examples can prove this point. Recently an academic
wrote an article critical of the left front using a pseudonym,
which he otherwise
does not use, in so respected a journal like
EPW. Or a woman teacher of the university of Calcutta who
fell foul of the party bosses simply “disappeared”. Leave alone
intellectuals or women’s groups, the university teachers did not
raise any voice. Or again a member of CU was terminated from
service for quoting a poem (incidentally, written by a Marxist
poet) in a leaflet. Or again in CU, a candidate (who incidentally
comes from a very poor economic background and is also a
dalit Muslim) was unanimously recommended by the selection
committee was denied a lecturer’s job not only without assigning
any reason but also without any discussion apparently because the left suspected his political loyalties. Of course, the other
candidates recommended by the same committee were given
appointments. Again, no teacher raised her voice. When the
government banned Tasleema Nasreen’s autobiography to
pander to imagined Muslim sentiments, again there was hardly
any protest in Bengal.
The most powerful conduit of left authoritarianism is disempowering
the people by immobilising them politically. It involves
the crushing of any independent or autonomous political initiative
of any individual or group. This has resulted in elections to
diverse bodies – from panchayats to students’ unions being held
without opposition candidates. To once again give the example of
CU, for more than two decades the left has won student union
elections largely without any contest. Likewise, elections to executive
bodies of the university, for more than a decade, are being
swept by the left without any contest. Where fear and inducements
do not work the left resorts to spectacular displays of violence
and arson to retain its rule. Particularly in rural Bengal,
the left combines modern forms of coercion and disciplining
with traditional communitarian modes of punishment like social
boycott, fines, retributive rape and imposing spectacular violence
and indignity upon the body of the person. Instances like the killings
in Marichchjhampi; the chopping off of both the arms of
Rashu Dhara and Ghonteswar Bag in Khandua village in 1991 for
voting the “hand” symbol of the Congress; the lynching and
burning alive of 16 Anada Margis in Calcutta in 1982, the killing
of 11 poor peasants in Nanoor or the murder and arson in Chotto
Anguria are part of the long story of violence in Bengal.10 The
most recent examples are, of course, Singur and Nandigram.11
The left has been successful in instilling a deep sense of fear
among all sections of the people – a fear of being punished, which
ranges from denying promotions to fines and extends to death.
This has produced a sense of pessimism and defeat. This shrinking
or erosion of the democratic space has spawned attempts to take
up arms to counter the violence of the state and the ruling party.
In fact, the most serious opposition to the left have come from the
Maoists and the Gurkha National Liberation Front, both of whom
have used the armed struggle to fight the left. Even within the
parliamentary opposition, it is people like Adhir Chowdhury, a
Congress MP in Murshidabad who has faced left terror by his own
counter militancy, could then make political advances in his district.
The Trinamool Congress’s short-lived success in Midnapur
was also due to its organised counter terror politics.
The Marxist regime in West Bengal has once again brought to
the fore the importance of civil society and the importance of the
deliberative dimension of democracy. Electoral success in the
absence of the above turns formal democracy into a quasi-fascist
regime. The left has subverted the Constitution and the state by
its colonisation of the state machinery and the setting up of
party-led countervailing powers. In rural Bengal particularly, the
left has set up a parallel judicial system through what are called
reconciliation meetings or ‘salishi sabhas’. In fact, it brought a bill
in the assembly to legally create these local judicial institutions,
which it was forced to withdraw in the face of protests by lawyers.
Eternal vigilance, it is said, is the price of liberty, but the
citizens of Bengal are not in much of a mood to pay this price. Such subversion of constitutional democracy is nothing new as
Aristotle analysed what he calls:
A fifth form of democracy, in other respects the same, is that in
which not the law, but the multitude, have the supreme power, and
supersede the law by their decrees. This is a state of affairs brought
about by the demagogues…At all events this sort of democracy…
grows into a despot; the flatterer is held in honour… The demagogues
make the decrees of the people override the laws, by referring all
things to the popular assembly. And therefore they grow great, because
the people have all things in their hands, and they hold in their
hands the votes of the people, who obey them… and so the authority
of every office is undermined.12
Email: cusanjeeb@yahoo.co.in
Notes
1 Alexis de Tocqueville Democracy in America, Modern Library, New York, 1981 p 3.
2 Michael Kalecki, ‘Social and Economic Aspects of “Intermediate Regimes”’ in
Selected Essays on the Economic Growth of the Socialist and Mixed Economy, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge, 1972.
3 V I Lenin, One of the Fundamental Questions of the Revolution, Selected Works Vol 2,
Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1975.
4 Ashis Chakrabarti, The Telegraph, January 19, 2006.
5 Udayan Namboodiri, Bengal’s Night Without End, India First Foundation, Delhi,
2006, p 388.
6 ibid, pp 55-64.
7 Sanjeeb Mukherjee, ‘Civil Society and Non-Western Societies: Tradition, Modernity
and Communism in Bengal’ in Asha Mukherjee et al (eds), Civil Society in Indian
Cultures, Council for Research in Philosophy and Values, Washington, 2001.
8 Partha Chatterjee, The Present History of West Bengal: Essays in Political Criticism,
Oxford University Press, Delhi, 1997. See chapter on Elections in West Bengal.
9 See reports by APDR, Namboodiri (2006) and Raghab Bandopadhyay, Keshpur
Katha, Srishti Prakashan, Kolkata, 2001.
10 Namboodiri, p 26.
11 Report of Investigation Into Nandigram Mass Killings, APDR and PBKMS, Calcutta, 2007.
12 Aristotle, The Politics, edited by S Everson, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge,
1988, p 89.