Lilaowala, Ashdeen Z., and Shernaz Cama. 2013. Threads of Continuity: The Zoroastrian Craft of Kusti Weaving (Mumbai: Parzor Foundation).
Verick, Sher. 2014. Women’s labour force participation in India: Why is it so low? International Labour Organization, http://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---asia/---ro-bangkok/---sro-new_delhi/documents/genericdocument/wcms_342357.pdf.
Part V
CONCLUSION
15
Freedom
What is the difference between Anna Hazare fasting to draw attention to his ethical position against corruption and a homeless person starving because he lacks the means to get food? Both these people are living in a politically free country. Neither is gaining good nutrition and both are in pain. But the difference is that while the former is exercising free will, the latter is not free because he has no choice. Only the latter is enslaved to his condition of starvation.
If a young man who is the heir to his father’s business chooses not to pursue an education he is exercising his choice. Another man who has no money and does not have the choice to study is enslaved to the deprivation of education. The former is free, while the latter is not.
A woman who chooses, without any external pressure, not to earn her livelihood—for motherhood, lack of interest, or any other reason—has freedom. A woman who is either forced to work due to financial constraints or any other reason or forced not to work is enslaved.
When we think of freedom, we usually think of civil and political rights. But for a person who is hungry, or is having to take on a burdening loan because there is no governmental health care, freedom means the freedom from that hunger or debt or the kind of insecurity that causes him to kill himself. For a person who wants to study but is held back by finances, freedom is getting an education. For a woman who is prohibited from going out to work, freedom means having the choice to pursue her aspirations outside the domestic setting.
The birth of India was marked by political freedom, which meant freedom from external government coercion—and nothing else. It did not mean freedom from hunger, exploitation and disease. There are many other forms of freedom that are needed to guarantee a fulfilling life. We cannot evolve if we are not free to do so. Only if we are granted free movement can we explore. If our sexual freedom is curbed, we can certainly not procreate. I have written in the first part of this book about how humans are instinctually predisposed towards survival, evolution, exploration and procreation. But a prerequisite for us to abide by these instincts is freedom.
I would therefore argue that the crucial difference between freedom and slavery is a person’s voluntary action, as opposed to compulsion. Elaborating this argument, I have raised a few questions in the second part of this book: Are we really free if bound by law (especially as the law is subjective anyway, changing from one country to another)? How can we exercise individual free will if we are pressured to conform to certain societal values we might not believe in? In the second and third parts of this book, I have discussed the idea that in India, politics, society, corporations and religions have become contraptions of our own making that restrict our ‘absolute freedom’. We created these institutions, which have now laid out rules that frame our life. The collectivist voice of these institutions tells us, ‘No, there is no absolute freedom. You need to enslave yourself to gain a livelihood, and society holds the right to limit your individual freedom.’ Should we listen to this collectivist voice and drop the delusion of our ‘freedoms’? Should we suppress our instincts to freely evolve, explore and procreate as per our choice? Should we accept that our freedoms are whatever society decides they are?
My quest for answers to these questions has not been merely an intellectual exercise. I am no economist sitting at my desk and commissioning research reports to then write about the report’s conclusions from a bird’s-eye view. Instead, my academic training has equipped me to scientifically investigate and objectively study my intimate experiences and involvement with India. What I have experienced and felt in India has been the key to the comparisons I have made with the experiences and feelings of others in India and abroad. It has made me read about various approaches to the same issue, because surely, there are several perspectives other than mine towards a country as vast and wild in its beauty as India. These are the reflections that I have, in all naked honesty, poured into this book.
In doing so, I have been well aware that my ability to recognize and follow my instinct has been a gift of my education at home, at school and of my explorations as a young adult in the world. But I have also long realized that while this gift has empowered me with volition, it has been my volition and the consequent life choices I have made that have almost made me feel apologetic towards the society of the country that I belong to.
The instances are many, and I have referred to some of them in this book. My rejection of religious rituals (while fully welcoming others following them) from the age of six onwards was supported by my parents, but not by society. I have, till date, not been forgiven for absconding at age nineteen on the day of a ‘surprise’ arranged engagement to a man I hardly knew. A few years later, in a country where boys need to study primarily to get a job, I am still told by members of the extended family to ‘take it easy’. On the other hand, when I have quit the ‘right jobs’ which seemingly increased my social status in order to pursue my heart’s desire I have been made to feel sorry and nervous by the people around me. When I lived across the world with my long-term Muslim partner, I was ostracized by my family for a few years. And when my partner and I parted ways after more than a decade of being together, it was smugly concluded by uncles and aunts that the reason was religious differences (though it was not!). Much later, when I married a man I loved who happened to be several years my junior, I was advised by friends to keep the age difference a secret. ‘Don’t say and they won’t be able to tell,’ a girlfriend a few years my senior told me. When, at our own wedding, my husband and I freely expressed our joy at being with child, not many were pleased.
Economist Amartya Sen’s perspective of ‘substantial’ freedom, as he writes of it, is concerned with becoming ‘fuller social persons, exercising our own volitions and interacting with and influencing the world in which we live.’1 But in reality, volition took me—as it does many other young girls in the country—on a tough path that has only threatened my social relationships.
In my opinion, it is not the legal framework of the Constitution, nor the religious scriptures and certainly not society that can prevent us harming one another. It is our education that teaches us to respect the right of another man to live and that prohibits us from harming or killing him. Unless we have this respect, no amount of rules curbing our various freedoms can save man from man. But if we, one, have this respect, and two, are able to exercise our rational faculty in our actions, even if society’s arbitrary rules ask us to harm another man, we will choose to disobey. Of course, the human mind is not infallible. We are not always capable of thinking rationally, and might make the wrong decision. But when rationality fails, respect for the other intervenes.
In essence, another man’s survival requires that those who are free must also be rational and educated enough to respect one another’s lives. These two preconditions are essential. This is why no matter how many legal or societal rules we create to control our freedom, if we as a nation do not nurture respect, rationality, and the ability to independently think and judge, as well as implement our volition, we will continue to kill or harm each other on the slightest pretext.
Rationality and freedom are therefore two sides of the same coin. We can only be rational when we think with a free mind, and when we are rational, freedom can win. One does not really exist without the other. So a rational mind does not work under compulsion. Once it perceives the situation, it cannot be subservient to anyone else’s orders or controls. Such a mind can therefore be perceived as dangerous to political harmony. If a person equipped with such a mind cannot be cajo
led, manipulated or forced even at gunpoint, how can a political leader have their orders obeyed?
It is for this reason, as I have pointed out in detail earlier in this book, that freedom of expression in India has been curbed— in more or less ways—by many successive governments even after we gained political freedom.2 After all, can there be any greater irony than the fact that in 1951 the very first amendment to the Constitution of India included the provisions to curtail freedom of speech and expression?3
If encouraging rational thinking amongst our people is detrimental to an Indian political leader’s tenure in power, what incentive does he have to encourage quality education in India?
I refer here to the kind of education that opens up the mind with questions rather than closes it with answers learnt by rote; the education that teaches us to respect each other as human beings, and not pull one another down even when scrambling for the same resources; the education that persuades us to stand with our head held high despite all our perceived flaws and not idolize a stereotype; the education that asks us to think for ourselves and speak our opinion, not pander to those of others.
For political leaders to remain in power, it is in their best interest that citizens abstain from such an education, whether formal or informal. Parents must be told not to nurture independent-minded children, for which society must work hand in hand with politicians and parents to ensure that the ability of our children to think rationally and independently is forever stunted. Schools must continue to encourage learning by rote, as that is a sure-shot way to produce clones who will be programmed to learn—without applying their mind—everything they are told. Such citizens would be easiest to provoke with political rhetoric.
I am by no means suggesting a great conspiracy on the part of political leaders to stunt the mental faculties of our citizens. My point here instead is that the sort of political leadership that has developed in India might have little real incentive to encourage an education that will promote rational and independent thinking. Expanding on this, my larger point is that citizens under such a leadership are not free. Our minds are slaves to the dictates of others. We will not question the rules laid down by politics, society, religion, or the boss who demands work 24/7. And the issue is not about being a slave to a ‘good’ cause (be it political, social, religious, professional, etc.) versus a slave to a ‘bad’ cause. The issue is freedom versus slavery.
If freedom is to be upheld, then individual rights need to be upheld, guaranteed and protected by the political system. However, despite all the rules in the Constitution that explicitly intend to do so, this has not been easy to implement in India.
For instance, the Indian Constitution equally empowers both free thinkers as well as the offended, who can pursue criminal charges against writers, artists, film-makers editors and reporters who may have allegedly hurt their sensibilities. Both groups have an equal claim to protection by the Constitution. An artist has as much freedom to paint what they wish to as any Indian citizen who claims to have been religiously offended by that artist’s painting. It is this dichotomy that has long been the focal point of conflict between the free thinkers and those who are offended, both of whose rights are protected by the Constitution.
Although India is a secular state, the growing number of ‘easily religiously offended’ groups wants the government to prioritize religion over secularism and human rights. There is also an increasingly condescending attitude—in both urban and rural milieus—towards liberal and secular elements. There is a single view of how to be a citizen that is being propagated, which is that one must believe the line that the government takes. The message being sent out by the ruling party is that we must think in ‘a way that is in the national interest’. But if a large number of people think that national interest is in upholding Constitutional values and the unity of different parts of the population, then that is in conflict with the government’s belief that there should be a Hindu nation. Then the people’s freedom to hold their own beliefs is hugely under threat. The freedom to converse, the freedom to think, is under attack.4
Recently, in a major blow to our right to free speech, the government in 2016 argued before the Supreme Court in favour of retaining criminal penalties for defamation—and the court upheld the law. While lamenting the misuse of government power, we must also realize that the role of the government is not easy in India either, balancing various public opinions and sentiments within the framework of the Constitution that does not always help in this regard. Politicians of the world’s largest democracy are not always acting on their selfish agenda to garner more votes in the elections (though they do so often). The dilemma created by the Indian Constitution, which protects the agents of freedom of speech as well as those who might be offended by that speech, is a difficult one. Ultimately, the actions of the Indian government on free expression—whichever way it weighs—have often also reflected the dominant opinion of the people.
As a consequence of this constitutional dilemma, as well as the political populism for votes, freedom of expression has suffered at different times and in varying degrees in India. Despite gaining political freedom, and indeed, ever since then, societal and government intolerance of free expression have peaked and ebbed. Such intolerance suffocates and discourages open discussion typical of a liberal, democratic society. Ultimately, a culture of fear to hold open, liberal discussions develops, which is the perfect breeding ground for extremist views of every kind to grow covertly. This leads to sentiments of hatred all around, and a mob culture ready to strike anywhere. Is this the India that we want to present to our children?
In the essay titled ‘Decibels’, I have pointed out how the curbing of freedom of expression has been an enduring problem in India, and not a passing one in just our present times. I would add here that we must not get lost in the ongoing blame game regarding which political party or government has worsened our lack of freedom. We need to instead wonder, how are so many of us joining the ‘easily religiously offended’ group? We are not a theocratic state. Then why are increasing numbers of Indians ridiculing or mistrusting their liberal and secular compatriots? We need to recognize that the curbing of freedom of expression is a worrying long-standing trend in a secular democratic nation that claims to constitutionally protect fundamental rights and secular values. How do we put an end to this trend before it is too late?
We must realize that societal ‘rules’ and all the laws established by the state have often failed miserably in protecting our freedom to lead a dignified life or even the freedom to live. As I have mentioned in my essay on religion in India, faith in religion provides tremendous hope to survive, but by the same token, it is also an overpowering force that can sway people towards differences. Both society and our legal framework have fallen victims to this force.
Off and on, there have also been instances in (politically free) India’s history when politicians have purposely supported and propagated religious nationalism, or chosen not to act either during or after communal clashes. The US Commission on International Religious Freedom is an independent US government advisory body that monitors religious freedom worldwide. Its 2016 Annual Report explains that
India is a multi-religious, multi-ethnic, multi-cultural country and a secular democracy . . . However, the Indian government has long struggled to maintain religious and communal harmony . . . In 2013, in Muzaffarnagar, Uttar Pradesh, violence between Hindus and Muslims killed forty people, at least a dozen women and girls were raped, and more than 50,000 were displaced. In Odisha in 2007–08, violence between Hindus and Christians destroyed churches and homes, displacing nearly 10,000 and killing around forty people. In Gujarat in 2002, violence between Hindus and Muslims left between 1200 and 2500 Muslims dead. The 1984 anti-Sikh riots killed 3000 Sikhs.5
Many cases stemming from these incidents are still pending in the Indian courts.6 According to Supreme Court lawyer Karuna Nundy, the reasons for this are multiple. One, the police is answerable to th
e state government, which cripples the police’s ability to act freely to control communal riots. Two, in the event of a pogrom, the police, for a certain period, has likely stepped back and observed or even gently facilitated the killing. So during the ‘golden hour’ of evidence—which is the time and place where the crime has occurred—no evidence has been gathered. Three, witness protection programmes in India are in dire straits. ‘The witness is the least valuable person in the local thana,’ says Nundy. ‘And so when you are up against some big communal political community, it is justice versus your life, and that slows down the entire case further.’ And four: ‘Usually when an opposing government comes to power, they control the CBI, and then drive it to become suddenly active on a past case that may have occurred during the previous government. There might be an active and honest judge who would thereafter take forward the independent evidence gathering efforts,’7 says Nundy.
If governance systems and their guardians—our politicians—fail to calm such violence and are at times the perpetrators or supporters of it, how can we entrust them with the greatest responsibility of protecting our freedom to live? If the laws of our land, which the political elite has enshrined in our Constitution, cannot stop people from killing each other, and don’t even allow the meting out of justice in such cases, on what basis do they claim to know better than us common folks about what to do when free? Even today, ask any politician (or members of their clan and families) about the benefits of governance in India, and they will tell you that in a country where 25.6 per cent of the people are illiterate, the masses do not have the intellectual or emotional bandwidth to take informed decisions about what to do with their freedom and therefore need to be guided by societal norms, religious doctrines and legal frameworks. The truth is that much to the benefit of these politicians who want to stay in power, if the masses are lacking in terms of education—formal and informal—they are less likely to take rational decisions that defy the agenda of the ruling political, societal, corporate and religious elite.
Indian Instincts Page 28