Mapping the terrains of the operation
Countering
the allegations that he bribed the voters, Monserrate reportedly responded that
we should not insult the voters. Monserrate makes a valid point here. As with
any allegation of corruption, there is a certain political point that
Monserrate’s opposition is trying to score. The point is to undermine the
individual decisions of those persons who voted for Monserrate. The suggestion
is that they are not free-thinking, concerned and responsible citizens. It is
scornfully suggested that they are merely opportunists who will vote for the
highest bidder. While I have no doubt that in fact money did exchange hands and
that gifts of cycles and sewing machines, drink and chicken were in fact made,
I would choose to look beyond the allegation that the votes of the people were
purchased. The reason I choose to refute the argument that votes can be
purchased is because this scornful position refuses to recognize that the
persons who accepted these gifts were in fact making calculated political
decisions. Just like the ‘apolitical’ stance taken by Goa and Taleigão Bachao
Abhiyan, the argument that votes can be sold, refuses to appreciate and engage
with the politics of the people.
To
begin with, whose is this scorn? Clearly it is the scorn of those who do not
need a thousand rupees a vote, or cycles or sewing machines. It is the scorn of
the haves for the have-nots, the haves presuming that it is only they who well
and truly appreciate what democracy is all about. The gifts were accepted
because these gifts, as petty as some of us may consider them, did make a
difference to the economy of the households that they were presented to.
Further, the gift-taking is in fact a rather complex participation in
democracy. The gift-takers recognize that the politician cares for them only to
the extent of their votes, that the system will not address their condition.
Thus, if they have to vote, they will vote only if you pay (gift) them to do
so. It is thus, through this gift-giving, and their construction of themselves
as a vote-bank, that they force the electoral process to in fact work. If they
didn’t vote, then given the fact that most of the middle class does not vote,
the electoral process would grind to a screeching halt! The scorn for the
gift-taking therefore, is extremely problematic and ironically, politically
naive!
This
political naiveté is built on the incredulousness of the upper orders who are
convinced of their own political maturity and the corresponding immaturity of
the labouring classes. They reason that it is because these labouring classes,
which often correspond with the Dalit-bahujan groups, are so immature that our
democracy is today malfunctioning the way that it is. These orders refuse to
see that these ‘malfunctionings’ of democracy are in fact the result of the
deeply problematic socio-economic divides that persist in our society, and that
we repeatedly refuse to address. It is because we refuse to recognize this
fact, and persist in our confounded arrogance, that a good portion of the
opposition to the development lobby in Goa is primarily engaged in ‘creating
awareness’. These members of the upper orders of our society are firmly convinced that the only reason for the silence of
the majority is because this majority is not aware. It is because we stubbornly
refuse to consider the alternative, that they are politically astute
individuals making carefully calibrated decisions that the tide we seek to stem
continues to inundate us.
If
we recognized the maturity of these gift takers and recognized that gifts are
accepted because these gifts made a difference to the economies of the
households that accepted them, our positions and our strategies would change
instantly. We would recognize that the presence of ‘outsiders’ in our villages,
and their transformation into vote-banks for the unscrupulous, can be addressed
if, and when, we address the issue of the poverty of these outsiders. If we are able to ensure
that their working conditions are better, the salaries they are paid are
higher, and that social welfare extendable to any worker, we would see a
significant drop in the arrival of these outsiders. This for two primary
reasons; first, because it would make employing ‘external’ labour more
expensive (especially if one is talking of housing migrant
construction-labour); and secondly, with an increase in pay-scales and
benefits, the Goan, who in facts demands a more mature work environment, would
begin seeking employment within Goa. As is increasingly becoming clear to me
though, much of the oppositional space in Goa is captured by elites, who do not
want to see radical change, but want only a return to the status-quo. Secondly,
when the non-elites among this opposition take charge, they unfortunately don’t
seem to be able to articulate their demands in broader terms. On the contrary,
they too get caught in the whirlpools of the discourse established by the
elite. As a result, rather than seeing solidarity with the ‘outsider’, they too
begin outsider-bashing. As a result, there is no substantial progress towards
resolving Goa’s crisis.
To
return to this matter of respecting the voter though, while Monserrate’s
objection may have helped us see a valid point, he too is guilty of
disrespecting the voter. There is a certain perversity, when one hands scraps
to the needy, even as the socio-economic and ecological base of these needy are
being destroyed. In addition, it is clear that while Monserrate may share
scraps, it is a lion’s share that he keeps for himself.
What
I will try to elaborate in the next segment is how, while Monserrate has
offered his constituency a political dream that they can identify with, in
reality he offers them only a mirage, one that will never be realized substantially.
What clinches the deal for him however, is the fact that he has managed to
offer concrete glimpses of this mirage. This is enough for the hopefuls of our
land. On the other hand though, his opposition offers no dream at all. It
offers only a return to a fast-disappearing status-quo. And NO-ONE wants to
return to that, except the elite. If the opposition to Monserrate (and the rest
of the brokering political establishment) are serious, then they need to not
only present to the people of Goa a dream, but put their actions where their
talk is and working toward presenting a concrete example of the dream that they
offer.
The Dream that Won Babush the Election
Persist to think of Babush
Monserrate as the embodiment of evil, and it will be impossible to understand
the reasons for his victory in the recently concluded Panchayat elections. If
one is to provide a counter to him, then one has to come up with another, more
plausible explanation for the victory. Demonizing him serves no purpose other
than to blindly hate him and provide a bonding among the various groups opposed
to him for their own varied reasons. In the previous segment of these
reflections, I had suggested that the key to Monserrate’s victory was not the
fear that he allegedly instills in the people of Taleigão, but because he is in
congress with them for reasons of a dream that he offers them. One cannot
capture votes merely by handing out gifts. One has to also capture the
imaginations of the people one is gifting. Monserrate seems to have done
exactly this. He offers the people of Taleigão a dream. He offers them the
dream, and the promise (even if it is a false promise) of modernity.
This modernity is has a definite
physical location, and that location is the city. More particularly, it is the
city of Bombay. As the Delegate of Fundacao Oriente, Paulo Varela Gomes, has
convincingly demonstrated on a number of occasions, Bombay has, at least since
the mid-nineteenth century, been the goal for the Goan, and especially for the
Goan dalit-bahujan. It was the city that promised them employment, the city
where their culture blossomed and found mature expression, it was the location
where they were able to escape the vice-like grip of their village and feudal
elite, and if not wholly escape it, contest these elites on a somewhat equal
footing. The city, with its broad avenues and high-rise buildings, offers not
just the chic aesthetics of modernity, and we have to recognize that Monserrate
has oodles of oomph [style] as evidenced from the public works carried out
under his stamp, but also the promise of liberation through the destruction of
the landscape and hierarchies of the village and the introduction of the
anonymity of the urban environment.
What dream does his opposition,
the forces that cry 'Save Goa' have to offer instead? By and large, they offer
the people of Taleigão, and Goa, the dream of the village. They do not point to
them the way forward, but look back with fondness to the aesthetics and
relationships of the village. What 'Save Goa' offers them is a return to the status-quo.
But as is clear from the voices of the people in Taleigão, the people don't
want a status quo, they want change, and they will grab at change any which way
they get it.
The village is not necessarily the
ideal place we imagine it to be. To the vast majority of people it is a place
marked by the absence of facilities and most importantly glitz. In addition, it
is a place that is intimidating for anyone who is Queer. It is a suffocating
location for the wife who refuses to be raped by her drunken husband and
returns single and pregnant to her parents' home, the homosexual son or
daughter, the unemployed person who refuses to have employment if it means his
daily humiliation, a member of the former ‘servant castes’ who chafes at the
attitude of the former dominant castes. I have written much about the need for
a revolution in Goa. Silly me, I didn’t recognize the revolution when I saw it.
Babush Monserrate and his ilk represent the revolution and they have with them
the masses of the people. Unfortunately however, Monserrate does not represent
the revolution which I imbue with the positive notions of establishing a
commonwealth. His agenda represents what I have earlier termed a fitna, an upheaval without the necessary renewal of society.
Which is why, the task before the opposition to Monserrate and his ilk is not
merely the presentation of the dream of the village, but the dream of the
village radically renewed.
Thankfully however, the opposition
to the politico-business lobby is not all composed of the elites interested in
a return to the status-quo. Some of us are opposed to this desertification
through concrete, and hold up the model of a village because we are animated by
the knowledge that the concrete industrial city that has become the model for
Goa promises only a temporary relief from oppression. It breaks the bonds of
village hierarchies, but simultaneously creates oppressions of other sorts. It
destroys ecological independence. In a few years time, there will be no fields
in Taleigão capable of producing food. The hills of Dona Paula covered with
constructions will no longer soak up rainwater; the village wells will run dry
or turn saline. Others will be fed by raw sewage rather than fresh water. The
rich will be able to up and leave; what of the poor? Where will they get water
from? Will they be able to purchase food at exorbitant prices? Monserrate’s
strategy may destroy the spatial and social relationships of the village, but
it is not producing sustainable employment. Lastly, the concrete city destroys
intimate bonds of the village to create the anonymous spaces and relationships
of the city that encourage crime. How many of the faces in São Paulo –
Taleigão’s market area- do we recognize anymore? The liberation of the city
that Monserrate offers therefore, is in fact a mirage. It promises a liberation
that it cannot in fact deliver. At some level, I doubt that Monserrate even
realizes the damage he is doing. As I will elaborate in the last segment of
this series, it is possible that he too, as a member of the society he leads,
shares in the misplaced assumption that the trappings of modernity (the roads,
high-rises and conspicuous consumption) alone, rather than a concomitant commitment
to the social values of modernity, will ensure deliverance from the curse of
our caste-bound society. It is therefore quite possible, that Monserrate
actually believes that his vision will bring deliverance and liberation.
It is for this reason that I have
been arguing for long that we need a revolution, an inquilab
in Goa. We don’t require a return to
the village of old, or the creation of the concrete industrial city, but a
radical re-founding of our communities. We need to present to the citizenry of
Goa, which now clings piteously to the promises of the false prophets of our
age, tangible and material evidence of what this new commonwealth will look
like. It calls for a change in the way in which we do and imagine politics and
associations. It calls for a demonstration of the possibilities of eco-friendly
and community-friendly business ventures. At present the elite groups who lead
the opposition both in Taleigão and in Goa seem rather reluctant to commit
themselves to this radical refounding. It is not that they don’t have the
imagination, but that they refuse to entertain any scheme that will radically
change the status-quo. They too are committed to a fitna, a mere
superficial management of society.
It is this vacuum then, which
Monserrate has filled, and will continue to fill until such time as we are
ready to talk equity and equality. Until such time as we are ready to establish a radically
equal society in Goa, the biblical New Jerusalem, Sant Tukaram’s Pandharpur, or
St. Augustine’s City of God, the city of Monserrate will be the paradise which
the citizenry of Taleigão and Goa will determinedly walk toward. And I can’t
say that I blame them.
Moving the ‘Devil’ from out of the shadows, into the Light of the Faith
The
express intention of the Thinking About Babush series was to move away from the
position that demonizes Babush Monserrate. The intention was not to essay an
uncritical celebration of the legislator from Taleigão, but to present a
hypothesis that would allow us to better understand the dynamics at work in the
constituency. To demonize Monserrate goes beyond doing him a disservice; it
prevents us from recognizing the socio-economic and political conditions of the
constituencies that he manages to represent.
In
the first part of the series I suggested that the eyes that demonize Monserrate
were in part, also eyes of the elite that refused to see the political
motivations of those they alleged were either bribed, or were blindly voting
for him. The second segment suggested that in addition to lavish gifts to his
constituents, Monserrate also presented them with a vision. This vision was one
of the City where the hierarchies of the village would be dissolved, and all
would be able to participate in a genuinely modern existence. In this segment,
I would like to suggest that in many ways Monserrate is trapped within his modus operandi, both for reasons of his
own personal location in society, as well as the kind of society he lives in.
However, I would suggest that for these reasons, he is also a possible
repository of hope for the future.
As
I suggested earlier, Goan society can be very
punishing, if you don’t fit the rules it lays down. Despite his nominal
position among the landlords and gãocars of Taleigão, the vicious whispered
rumours about his ancestry give Monserrate a just and understandable reason to
want to destroy the social hierarchies of the village. As discussed in the last
column, one way to destroy these hierarchies is through the fashioning of the
village into the city. What I am suggesting therefore, is that the dream that
Monserrate peddles could be more than an evil plan he has for lining his nest
at the expense of the people of Taleigão. He could actually be emotionally invested
in it, believing that it would provide deliverance as much as the others who
believe in this dream.
India’s
encounter with modernity is peculiar. Rather than being understood to be the
values of equality and respect, reasoned acceptance as opposed to acceptance by
diktat, modernity has been understood primarily as the acquisition of
technology, the material benefits that come with it, and the associated
aesthetic styles. The intellectual foundations of modernity have been rejected
in favour of the purely material. In focusing primarily on the material, it is
possible to spin the web of meritocracy and argue that if one does not gain the
material benefits of modernity, it is because one has not worked hard enough
for it. Thus only the upper-castes and classes benefit from modernity, while
the rest slave under it. Even worse, the myth of meritocracy, destroys
tendencies toward solidarity with the marginalised and allows the creation of a (slum)dog eat dog
world, where it is each one for oneself. To gain respect in this faux modern
world, one has to garner as much wealth as one possibly can. In the process,
one must necessarily cut personal ties to climb the ladder of achievement.
As a result our interests are now seen to lie with those who are already in the big game, not with
those one is leaving behind. In India, this automatically has caste
implications. The caste implications are at their most stark when we expect
Dalit leaders to somehow be Colossi of morality, while other leaders who
feather their nests are somehow exempt from this harsh social judgment. A
perfect example would be the vicious criticism that has so often been leveled
against Mayawati, the leader of the Bahujan Samaj Party, for her alleged
corruption even as others get away relatively easily.
It
is in this context that I would like to see Monserrate. In addition to the
social agenda he may have, he is also as hostage to the skewed understanding of
modernity as the rest of us. Thus in his race for respect, feathering his own
nest is but a natural outcome. While this is under no circumstances excusable,
the question we should ask is why we reserve such scorn for the acquisitions of
Monserrate, or indeed the similar figure of Churchill Alemão, even as we excuse
the sins of others in the political establishment. Why for example are we more
accepting of the tactics of the Rane establishment, in particular the father?
It has always been rumoured that it was he that initiated the land scams with
the late R. N. Ray when the latter was Chief Town Planner. Is it his ‘noble’
birth and cultivated charm that allows us to look the other way, not
investigate these rumours? Perhaps. It is therefore, in the social exclusions
and hypocrisy practiced by our society that the only route open to Monserrate
is to continue to line his own nest, and open up his own path for a radically
different social order.
It
is this and other reasons then that are at the basis of our demonizing of
Babush Monserrate. We fear the social reality whose coming he represents. We
would prefer to keep him and the classes he represents entirely out of our
perfumed consciousness.
In
addition to this though, there is another, possibly communal angle to the whole
game. I don’t believe that it is entirely by accident that Monserrate, like
Alemão, is demonized, is Catholic, and effectively occupies the lower-caste,
bahujan position in our society. This has been a pattern of our society, where
among the Catholics, only the upper-caste is feted and the rest of them are
expected to just follow suit. Thus when J. B Gonsalves had a chance at being
Chief Minister, the glitterati on Panjim scoffed, ‘the baker wants to be Chief
Minister!’ In recent times the communalization of our society has taken a more
serious turn. As unchallenged Rei de Taleigão, the demonization and destruction
of this man, theoretically opens up the way for the unchallenged romp of the
BJP into the village.
There
are therefore multiple reasons for us to view with suspicion the demonization
of Babush Monserrate. And yet, none of this should be taken to endorse the
manner in which he funds his agenda. In the final sum, his modus operandi is going to give us only skin-deep modernity and a
resulting social, political, economic and ecological mess. With so much power
in his hands, undoubted access to cultivated minds (as his urban projects show,
he definitely has talented architects working with him) Monserrate’s failure to
engineer a more egalitarian and sensitive politics cannot be condoned. Our
opposition to Monserrate’s modus, real
estate funded social change, must therefore continue. It must, however, be a
principled opposition. Principled opposition is not a notional, do-nothing, and
think much opposition. Firm and unyielding when no quarter can be given, it is
also cognizant of the benefits he may possibly bring. It is necessarily marked
by action. In the long run, such an unyielding but principled opposition will
force him to necessarily adopt, even if in slow and reluctant measures, a more
sustainable route toward the agenda that we support. A neighbour of mine prays
for the conversion of Babush just like Sta. Monica did for the conversion of
her son, St. Augustine, who would go on to become a Doctor of the Church. In
many ways, I join her in her prayers. I do so because I believe that such a
conversion is possible; Monserrate does in fact have what it takes to be the
Augustine of our age. Until such conversion however, this principled
opposition, the physical evidence of our prayers, in favour of the village
refounded must continue.
(This post is the consolidated version of a three piece op-ed that was first published in the Gomantak Times in April 2009)
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