Usual Suspects

By Swapan Dasgupta

 

For me, one of the more astonishing moments of the German Marshall Fund’s Brussels Forum last week was an exposition of the trans-Atlantic relationship by Poland’s President’s Bronislaw Komorowski. Speaking to an audience that was drawn mainly from the European Union countries and the United States, the Polish leader said he looked forward to the continental drift that would lead to Europe and the Americas becoming one land mass. However, rather than wait a millennium or two before the Atlantic gap disappears, he urged that the EU and US pre-empt geographical evolution and become one in his lifetime. 

 

Nor was President Komorowski the only European leader to dream extravagantly. In her speech to the Brussels Forum, Germany’s Defence Minister Ursula von der Leyen emphasised that the EU must have a big goals and march purposefully in that direction. For her, a worthwhile goal for the moment was the creation of a unified European army. Although she did not stretch the point, the logic of the proposal was only too apparent: to put an end to all residual nationalisms and, more important, posit Europe as a coherent power centre that would bolster the trans-Atlantic alliance. 

 

Both the Polish President and the German Defence Minister were no doubt thinking big but they were also addressing their own national predicament. Poland, forever the frontier state that has moved traumatically in the past two centuries between fragile existence and obliteration from the map, the guarantee of national independence necessarily involved compromising sovereignty to ensure survival. This was the logic of its Warsaw Pact membership when it looked east to defend itself from the west; and it was the basis of its membership of NATO and EU when its protective cover derives from the west against a Russia that has dismantled the Soviet economic structures but left Stalin’s geopolitics broadly undisturbed. 

 

Germany’s problems are less centred on security than on the vexed question of channelling national ambitions. The country’s economic dynamism and the depth of its creative talent were never in doubt but these were offset by an aggressive nationalism that inevitably invited a gang-up of forces against German hegemonic impulses. Since 1945, and particularly after re-unification, Germany has steadily come to assume the role of Europe’s dynamic epicentre. Whether it likes it or not, the future of the European project is perceived to be with Germany. Yet, because of its pre-1945 experiences, Berlin has been loath to assume a clear leadership role within the EU, preferring to keep its role deliberately understated. This, however, has not prevented the periodic eruption of anti-German sentiment in different parts of Europe, as is happening in Greece today. Guilt-tripping Germany, as many of Europe’s populist politicians have found, is potentially rewarding. 

 

Such a situation cannot last indefinitely and certainly not in a situation where the quality of Washington’s global involvement is a source of concern in the capital cities of Europe. Throughout the Brussels summit, there was an attempt to show that the image of an US as a weakened force was horribly wrong. This was coupled by a parallel endeavour to argue that NATO’s response to the Russian challenge in Crimea and Ukraine has not been confused and dilatory. Jens Stoltenberg, the Secretary General of NATO, was clear in his mind that Russia had violated the post-Cold War consensus and forced NATO into the path of “adaptation” that would include confronting “hybrid warfare” (a phenomenon we in India call ‘proxy war’) and responding with a greater sense of urgency. 

 

Yet, serious doubts linger. It is interesting that the Brussels Summit spent relatively little time debating the grave implications of the rise of political parties that seek to unravel the European project. The United Kingdom Independence Party, which seeks a referendum on the UK’s membership of EU, is expected to secure nearly 15 per cent of the popular vote in the May general election. In France, the National Front led by Marine Le Pen secured nearly 25 per cent of the vote in last Sunday’s local polls and is expected to outpoll the Socialist Party in the presidential election. In addition, Greece has put a big question over the fiscal integrity of the Eurozone with its determination to not accept a sharp reduction in government expenditure. Taken together, they suggest that the cohesiveness of Europe is still work in progress. A few decades of free trade and the free movement of peoples cannot entirely overcome centuries of national distinctiveness. 

 

Yet, there is a lofty self-image of the EU that centres on common ‘values’ that have liberty, democracy, human rights and free trade at its core. To these have been added—courtesy the ambitions of President Vladimir Putin—the inviolability of national borders and the peaceful resolution of disputes. In the early years, these values were posited against the ‘evil empire’ in the East but following the end of the Cold War and the emergence of a pan-European cosmopolitanism, particularly among the young, the European ideal became enmeshed in bureaucratisation and a fierce sense of laid back entitlement. The missionary zeal that had marked the pioneers of the Common Market lost its sting. Membership of EU was an inescapable feature of life, as perhaps was the trans-Atlantic security umbrella, but it was viewed as the preoccupation of overpaid Eurocrats in Brussels. 

 

That Putin has restored an extra dose of energy in the EU states and among NATO members is obvious. To put it bluntly, Russia is once again seen as a major threat. The debate is now over ranking in the hierarchy of dangers: does Russia rank above or below the parallel threat being posed by Islamist radicalism? The debate is still inconclusive, not least because Mosul is further away than Kiev, but, in the process, the biggest gainer is China. 

 

In the Brussels summit, China invariably lurked as a shadow in all discussions, sometimes as China and more often than not as the central figure in Asia. The honeymoon with Japan that had been a feature of European deliberations on another world seems well and truly over. And India pops in and out of the consciousness, more as an add-on to China. 

 

What makes the EU perception of China particularly interesting is that that its intentions aren’t suspect. There may be a Great Game being played out in the Indian Ocean and the South China Sea and it is understood that China is deftly redrawing the power architecture of the world. However, this is viewed as an entirely legitimate extension of its growing economic clout. It is also an area where there is a discernible difference between how the US and Europe thinks. The untroubled ease with which EU member-states disobeyed the US on membership of the China-promoted Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank is a clear indication that commonality of ‘values’ doesn’t always take precedence over cold material interests. It could be a precursor to European acquiescence in China’s march to translate economic might into political clout. 

 

For India, the lessons are clear: its importance to the unsure trans-Atlantic community will depend quite substantially on its ability to build its own capacities. Maybe there is a lesson from Europe for India. Germany is slowly re-establishing its political power on the strength of its ability to build a non-threatening partnership with smaller European states. Individually, German leadership rekindles memories of a troubled past. But as the nucleus of a cluster bound together by a economic agenda and a common fear, it can even propose a common European army. India could profit from using its domestic expertise in alliance-building in foreign policy. 

The Telegraph, March 27, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Swapan Dasgupta

One of Lutyens’ Delhi’s less-guarded secrets is the fact that there were a few diplomatic missions that were banking on Narendra Modi falling flat on his face on May 16, 2014—the day the general election results were declared. According to some well-informed individuals, this included the US Embassy which was understandably concerned that the man they had denied a visa and treated like an untouchable would now be the next Prime Minister. Such a result, it was feared, would leave Washington in an awkward predicament.

The outcome confirmed the US’s worst fears. But it wriggled out of its embarrassment by getting President Obama to congratulate Modi personally and invite him to visit the US. Having dialled a wrong number, the US now sought to make it up with a show of graciousness—although I am pretty sure that gnashed teeth accompanied the show of diplomatic niceties. In any case, since the US’s gratuitous interference in the internal affairs of a sovereign country was not even a footnote issue of the general election, it was possible for Washington to swallow its pride without inviting further acrimony. 

Last week’s election in Israel was qualitatively different. First, the US and Israel share a special relationship that is far more consequential to both countries than US-India relations. Secondly, short of actually saying so publicly, the Obama administration had made it quite clear that it didn’t want a fourth term for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. The pugnacious Netanyahu who prioritises Israel’s national security and future over the larger strategic games Big Powers like to play, had, over the past few years, clearly told Obama where to get off. In particular, he minced no words in underlining his abhorrence of the US’s undue accommodation of Iran’s nuclear programme that poses a grave threat to the very existence of Israel. 

Disagreements among world leaders on core national issues is not uncommon. Indeed, it is at the very heart of diplomacy—the endeavour to minimise differences, seek compromises and avert armed conflict. President Obama has every right to disagree with the approach and orientation of Netanyahu. But there are two features of the Obama administration’s behaviour that any sovereign nation will unacceptable. First, it was odd, to say the least, for the US to proffer its views on Netanyahu’s interventions during the course of the election campaign. The US made its displeasure over Netanyahu continuing as the head of the government quite apparent. Indeed, it seemed that it was directly trying to influence voting intentions in Israel. Secondly, after Netanyahu’s Likud Party defied the pollsters and outpolled the main opposition Zionist Union, the US went into a mood that can best be called petulant. In its churlish reactions to the outcome, it seemed to question the gumption of Israelis to disobey the advice of Washington. The predictably hostile comments of the American liberal media, notably the New York Times, to the election outcome was indicative. 

It often happens—and more so with American liberals—that what seems appropriate for a country from the perspective of Washington or Manhattan isn’t  similarly viewed by the people who are directly affected. This is a consequence of democracy, a political system the US often believes it has a copyright over. It is quite clear that the late surge for Netanyahu was a result of his success in conveying to Israeli voters that he would not be arm-twisted by Obama. In other words, the people of Israel made it quite clear that it was resolutely opposed to any two-state settlement that skirts the fundamental issue of Israel’s national security. 

In the coming days, unless the Obama administration cools off, we are likely to witness a sustained bid to coerce Israel into disregarding the political message of the election. Having failed to effect a regime change, the strains in US-Israel relationship will be the signal for another global bout of Israel-bashing. It is, for example, likely that the over-politicised UN Human Rights Council will release a report damning Israel’s conduct in Gaza. This report may even be voted upon in the forthcoming UNHRC session in Geneva. Now that Sri Lanka is likely to be given a breather, the focus is likely to revert to Israel. 

Prime Minister Modi was among the first leaders to congratulate Netanyahu on his re-election and his tweet in Hebrew was appreciated greatly in Israel. The Indian PM knows and recognises the enormous potential of India’s ties with Israel and, unlike our earlier government, isn’t afraid of saying so publicly. Consequently, he will recognise that the forthcoming UNHRC report, whose conclusions were pre-determined, is less a tearful outpouring of overpaid human rights activists as a political intervention against Israel. Its context is obvious.

Having been a target of the human rights evangelists himself, Modi must make the necessary diplomatic adjustments to ensure that the UNHRC is de-politicised and doesn’t become an instrument to target countries that have fallen on the wrong side of organised lobbies. The Government of India must reassess the validity of its votes against Israel and Sri Lanka in various international fora, not least the UNHRC. It must repudiate the very principle of intrusive diplomacy—particularly when the targets happen to be vibrant democracies. 

It was decent of Modi to tweet his congratulations to Netanyahu. Now he should act on it. 

Sunday Pioneer, March 22, 2015

By Swapan Dasgupta

By Swapan Dasgupta 

By Swapan Dasgupta

 

The public commemoration of anniversaries is drearily routine and, at best, a marketing opportunity for the publishing, postage stamp and collectibles industries. Yet, which birthdays, death anniversaries and momentous events a country chooses to remember often tells us more about contemporary realities than the past. Likewise, any landmark anniversary a society chooses to overlook is a commentary on collective awkwardness with a facet of the past. 

 

March 23 marks the platinum jubilee of the Muslim League’s Pakistan resolution. On that day in Lahore, with Qaid-e-Azam Mohammed Ali Jinnah as the presiding deity, the Bengal peasant leader Fazlul Haq moved the momentous resolution that proclaimed that no future political settlement “would be workable…or acceptable to the Muslims” unless “geographically contiguous units…in which the Muslims are numerically in a majority as in the North-western and North-eastern zones of India should be grouped to constitute ‘Independent States’ in which the constituent units shall be autonomous and sovereign.” The resolution triggered political developments that culminated in the partition of India and the creation of Pakistan on August 14, 1947. 

 

It is understandable that today’s India will be disinclined to remember that day in Lahore. Although time can be potentially a great healer, the wounds inflicted by Jinnah’s successfully advocacy of the two nation principles still rankle in the collective psyche of India. The creation of Pakistan was a body blow to the idea of Indian nationalism and constituted a major defeat amid the triumph of Independence. Neither the vivisection of Pakistan in 1971 nor the existential agonies our troublesome neighbour is at present experiencing has quite served to sweeten the bitter pill the country had to swallow as a result of the Lahore resolution. 

 

However, it is not an acknowledgment of defeat—and barring B.R. Ambedkar, the nationalist pantheon was unanimous in seeing it as a colossal tragedy—that makes it embarrassing to address the hiccups of history. The sequence of events from March 1940 to August 1947 raises very awkward issues that seem best to run away from. 

 

After the creation of Bangladesh—an event that punctured the belief that Islam constitutes a sufficient basis of nationhood—there has been an increasing tendency to view Pakistan as an unintended consequence of the Lahore resolution. Jinnah, it has been contended, and not entirely without basis, was basically using the threat of Pakistan to press for a federal India where the powers of the Centre would be limited. By this argument it was the determination of the Congress leadership—and particularly Jawaharlal Nehru—to ensure a strong Centre that thwarted Jinnah’s attempt to achieve Hindu-Muslim parity. The Cabinet Mission Plan was a missed opportunity. 

 

Jinnah, it was also claimed, was using the Muslim community as the pressure point for his constitutionalist thrust and, consequently, never had too much time for abstruse debates on the proposed Pakistan’s Islamic identity. For Jinnah, Pakistan meant a modern nation with a Muslim majority. 

 

Extending this argument to politics on the ground, it has been suggested that the idea of Pakistan was always kept utterly vague and confusing so much so that Muslims in the ‘minority provinces’—the ML’s core support—were completely unaware of what separation actually involved. Likewise, it has been suggested that the Muslim ulama was resolutely opposed to Pakistan and, had the franchise been extended to the poor Muslims, the social limitations of the ML as a party of the landed gentry and the educated middle class, would have been thoroughly exposed. According to this version of history, Partition was a knee-jerk response to Lord Mountbatten’s hasty withdrawal timetable and the communal riots resulting from ML’s Direct Action Day in August 1946. 

 

In a just-published book Creating A New Medina: State Power, Islam and the Quest for Pakistan that may well be at the centre of a new bout of revisionism, a young historian Venkat Dhulipala has challenged the new orthodoxy. Basing his research on the speeches, writings and poetry of those who were actually involved in the hard slog of mobilising Muslims, particularly in the United Provinces and Bihar, he has, in effect, resurrected a memory of the Pakistan movement that was shared by the participants (and opponents) but which has somehow not found place in recent history writing. 

 

First, Dhulipala has questioned the claim that Pakistan was insufficiently imagined. On the contrary, using evidence from the ‘minority provinces’ that were ML strongholds, he has documented a vibrant engagement between the protagonists and opponents of Pakistan over the implications of separate statehood. This was a debate that touched not merely the clergy but also involved the participation of the Muslim professional classes. Almost every aspect of Pakistan ranging from Hindu-Muslim differences, the viability of new country vis a vis India, the likelihood of an Islamic state and the boundaries of Pakistan were hotly discussed at different levels from March 1940 till the moment of Partition. Therefore, far from the idea of Pakistan being shrouded in deliberate vagueness, Dhulipala suggests it was “imagined…plentifully and with ambition.”

 

Secondly, contrary to the claims by a repentant and orphaned ML regional leadership in the ‘minority provinces’ that it was unaware of the serious implications of separation, Dhulipala documents the openness with which the plight of Muslims in UP, Bihar and the Central Provinces was discussed. The anti-Pakistan Muslim politicians attached to both the Congress and the Jamiat-ul-Ulema-i-Hind (JUH) was quite explicit that there was nothing in Pakistan for the Muslims in the Hindu-majority provinces. Curiously, the ML leadership didn’t disagree. Instead it posited the strong support for Pakistan among the Muslims in the Hindu heartland as evidence of “sacrifice” for a lofty cause: the creation of a new Medina that would become the focus of an international Islamic brotherhood. The Muslims there were assured that no harm would come their way after separation because the Hindu minority in Pakistan would be “hostage” to their security and well being. In short, the Muslims in the ‘minority provinces’ waved the flag of Pakistan knowingly and with their eyes wide open. Their post-Independence repudiation of the ML was born of sheer expediency. 

 

Thirdly, contrary to the impression of the Muslim clergy opposing Pakistan, Dhulipala reveals a vertical split with only the Madani-controlled JUH endorsing the Congress and the rest, including a large chunk of Deoband-trained maulvis, joining the ML campaign for separation. The schism was essentially over two issues: composite nationalism versus Muslim nationalism, and the likelihood of an Islamic state in Pakistan. Indeed, both the pro-Congress and pro-ML clergy were united in their endorsement of an Islamic state as the ideal for all Muslims. Contrary to what Jinnah said in his speech of August 11, 1947 to Pakistan’s Constituent Assembly, the mood of the ML’s foot soldiers were unambiguously for a state that would replicate the early Islamic experience. 

 

Finally, it would seem that Pakistan struck a deep emotional chord among most of the Muslims in united India—a reason why established regional parties and regional leaders proved powerless to combat it. Jinnah may have kept the doors of a federation of self-governing states open till the last minute. However, the passions the Lahore resolution aroused meant that any last-minute compromise would not have endured. By 1946, Muslim India was unwaveringly committed to a separate Pakistan. The alternative was civil war. 

 

Dhulipala has raised a host of uncomfortable issues that politicians and intellectuals on both sides of the Radcliffe Line would prefer to shy away from. In the quest for an elusive modernity this denial is understandable. Unfortunately, history often comes back to haunt the present. 

The Telegraph, March 13, 2015

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Swapan Dasgupta

 

It is not necessary to be unduly paranoid or even nurture vaguely conspiratorial theories of Western condescension to suggest that the furore over the BBC documentary ‘India’s Daughter’ has successfully made the country an object of both derision and mockery. This may have been completely unintended but even the most ardent camp followers of Leslee Udwin—and Delhi abounds with too many of them, all extremely vocal and articulate—won’t deny that in the process of possibly ensuring a BAFTA award (or some other equivalent honour) for herself, she has not done any service to India—a country which, if our own media is to be believed, she has apparently dubbed a “really sick society.”

 

First, to all those in the world who made it a point to watch the hour-long documentary on the horrible Nirbhaya rape case, she has driven home the point that behind the façade of the glitzy malls, hi-tech and soaring GDP lurks an India that is not terribly dissimilar from the one that Katherine Mayo described in Mother India some 80 years ago. True, she has taken care to amplify another India that won’t take the institutionalised degradation of women lying down. But these voices of enlightenment are projected as coming up against a wall of mental perversity that propelled the convicted rapists into believing that what they had done wasn’t something out of the ordinary. In short, the crime for which the rapists were awarded the capital punishment was indicative, not of individual criminality, but a larger social malaise. 

 

To some extent the film-maker is right. It would be silly to not believe that there is an army of misogynists that contest the inalienable right of women to both the public space and their own bodies. To them, the only place for women is in the protective confines of home, as mothers, wives and daughters. Any departure from this pattern cast women, in their eyes, as either un-Indian or, worse, sluts. It is also true that there are individuals in high places who share these attitudes, if not openly then certainly within a closed circle. 

 

But there is a larger question that is left unaddressed. Why does a society that can be said to be fundamentally conservative—and this includes women—also have some of the most progressive legislation in matters concerning property rights, inheritance, marriage and divorce? This is true for all Indians, except the Muslim community that has steadfastly opposed all pressures to keep pace with the times—an issue that neither India’s radical feminists or their influential friends overseas are willing to address because that would somehow be anti-secular. India also has pretty draconian laws governing dowry, sexual harassment, violence against women and rape. These attempts to ensure gender equality and gender justice haven’t been put in place because India is a ‘sick society’ with ‘sick’ people in charge. They have happened because there are enough people who feel that a modern India must actively fight regressive attitudes that were once as prevalent in the West as they were in India. 

 

What Udwin and those who think like her have done is to suggest that actually India is no better than, say, Iran where dynamic women are weighed down by a combination of politicised religion and custom. Perhaps this makes Western crusaders feel that they are on a genuine civilising mission. What, after all, is the essential difference between Udwin and those evangelists in the United States who underwrite the ‘harvesting of souls’ in the benighted parts of the world? There is an uncanny convergence between feminist evangelism and religious evangelism directed from the West. 

 

If someone in authority—and the real identity of the person that facilitated the filming in Tihar jail has not been revealed—thought that a BBC film would be an honest portrayal of an event that shook India, he/she underestimated the extent of cultural bias. Or maybe the individual shared those assumptions. 

 

However, this supercilious assertion of cultural superiority and the portrayal of backwardness have often acquired a life of its own thanks to ham-handed over-reaction in India. 

 

If there was apparent outrage in the international media that the Indian authorities were considering action against the BBC and the film-maker, this was soon replaced by the absolute jubilation that the ban on India’s Daughter was a farce. Technology had ensured that a simple directive to YouTube or any other site was not going to prevent more innovative access to the banned material. The ministers who had threatened a total ban and robust fight back against a conspiracy to vilify India were made to look foolish—much to the particular delight of an international media that loves nothing more than a spat with the authorities to feel self-important. 

 

It is understandable that MPs were particularly agitated over the access given to a ‘foreign’ broadcaster—I don’t think they would have given the same access to a ‘desi’ channel or publication. But if the response to indignation is a series of knee-jerk measures, like a ‘red corner notice’ or an ineffective ban or a prosecution of technical lapses, India will look ridiculous. The last thing the country or the government needs is for the controversy escalating into a free speech. Such a development would only reinforce the patronising belief that India has a bit too much social dirt to hide from the outside world. 

 

As India advances into the zone of economic growth and prosperity, there will be many more barbed attacks from those who resent an intruder in the High Table. India will have to live with snide asides in the media and from visiting dignitaries. It is possible that this horrible portrayal of women as sexual playthings will have an effect on our tourist inflows. These challenges will have to be faced, not by retreating into the isolation of a bunker, but through resilience and a determination to proceed along the path that makes India a target of hateful envy. Most important, responding to abuse with abuse won’t be helpful. 

Sunday Pioneer, March 8, 2015