Inquilab in numbers

Justice Soumitra Sen seems all set to be impeached. In a historic move, the Rajya Sabha in an overwhelming majority has supported the impeachment of the judge for misappropriating funds. And since all political parties except one are unanimous in demanding his removal against the backdrop of a humongous mass movement against corruption, the motion is likely to be passed in the Lok Sabha too.

Which would make Justice Sen the first judge to be impeached. The judge says he is being made a sacrificial lamb to show that the judiciary is being cleansed.
Sure, the unprecedented groundswell of protest against corruption makes it difficult for the government to continue its culture of apathy and impunity at this moment. So Justice Sen, like several others supposedly involved in financial scams, from Suresh Kalmadi to A. Raja, may be paying for what people in power usually get away with. With mass protests erupting all over the country with a stoutly starving Gandhian at the helm, the public mood cannot be ignored anymore.
When Anna Hazare was arrested from my neighbourhood early Tuesday morning, the response was electrifying. “Jail bharo!” shouted enraged men and women of all ages, swarming police barricades, trying to court arrest. “Inquilab zindabad!” rent the early morning air. The common Indian was out on the streets, pulling out rusty slogans from the folds of history and using them as the sharpest weapons of democracy. Social networking sites pitched in, and the second phase of this huge country-wide mass movement burst into the political scene. The protests are going on, day and night, in neighbourhoods, public places, distant cities; in little pockets or large swarms, with or without candles, with or without banners, with or without political activists. It is a real mass movement. Which is forcing a callous and imperious government to be receptive to the people’s demands. Routine sarkari highhandedness failed to handle this wave of emotion on the streets. The sarkar had tried everything, even accusing the Gandhian of corruption, and every move had fuelled the fire of protest. Now it was time to wake up and smell the outrage. The government decided to kindly adjust.
It is brilliant that the common Indian, accustomed to being ignored, denied rights and entitlements and slapped around, has finally found a voice in Mr Hazare and his team. It is wonderful that the masses can actually have their say and be heard. But this is temporary. This movement for the Jan Lokpal Bill is a fantastic step towards repairing our wounded democracy. But it is just a step. We need to cherish and build on this moment to strengthen our participatory democracy.
For the power of the people comes from numbers. Anna Hazare’s muscle is provided by over 13 million people rallying around him across the country. The common Indian’s power comes from the formidable army of fellow protesters. And they have come together to fight something that affects each one of them directly. Corruption has eaten into our lives like termites, leaving no one untouched. The fight against corruption is a personal fight for each one of the enraged protesters. And their less active supporters who don’t take to the streets.
But not every cause will have this kind of public response. In Manipur, Irom Sharmila has been on a fast for more than a decade to protest Army atrocities in states under the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA). The government has been force-feeding her through a nasal tube to keep her alive and ignoring her demands. It has not tried to stop the violence and abuse of power by the Army against its own citizens. Probably because AFSPA affects some Indians, not all. It doesn’t capture the imagination of the whole nation the way corruption does. When the power of the people depends on numbers alone, there is a huge possibility of injustice being ignored.
We not only need a platform for protest, we need recognisable tools that are respected by the government, and most importantly we need the sensitivity suitable for the world’s largest democracy. Without these, we cannot stop our desperation from sliding into riots and insurgency. Instead of steadily increasing spending on internal security, the government may wish to address grievances properly and be receptive to the needs of a fair, egalitarian democracy.
But unfortunately, the government’s insensitivity defies even internationally-accepted traditional shaming gestures. In Nigeria in 2002, 600 village women had marched against the oil company ChevronTexaco. Threatening to strip naked to disgrace the company, they had demanded water, healthcare, jobs, education and other development basics. ChevronTexaco had agreed, thereby finally sharing the country’s wealth with its poor. In India in 2004, dozens of naked, middle-aged Manipuri women marched behind a banner saying: “Indian Army: Rape Us”. The Army had raped, tortured and killed Thangiam Manorama, 32, branding her a militant. The photograph of these furious women in national dailies had focused the nation’s attention on Army atrocities in Manipur. Like the Nigerians, they had used their bodies as weapons to shame the tormentor and demand specific change. Unlike the Nigerians, they failed. Because their protest was not taken seriously enough by the political powers. It shows how little the government cares about its own citizens. No democracy can remain healthy when it ignores its people’s miseries and desperation.
The Jan Lokpal movement has given the sarkar a unique opportunity to mend its ways. If the government wants to be truly receptive, as it claims now, it needs to enhance participatory democracy. And that is not built on numbers alone. It should take into consideration the intensity of the emotion fuelling the movement and the reasonableness of its demands, even if it affects a small number of citizens. That would be the yardstick for gauging the real success of Mr Hazare’s amazing movement.

Antara Dev Sen is editor of The Little Magazine. She can be contacted at: sen@littlemag.com [2]