Citizenship and the Right to move…

“God did not create boundaries. He gave us the world to live our lives on. He did not create boundaries to marginalize us.” I was watching “Assaulted Dream”, a film documenting the desperate attempts made by men from the Central American republics, who unable to find decent employment in their own countries, embark on perilous journeys in search of work in the United States. These words rushed out at me, and I was aware instantly of the singular truth and power of the words “God did not create boundaries”. Ecological readings of the Abrahamic faiths; Judaism, Christianity and Islam, emphasize the fact that God gave us dominion over the earth; he did not give us ownership of it. Indeed, God did not create boundaries. He gave us the world to satisfy our needs. It was man who erected the borders that operate to marginalize us.

It was perhaps the acknowledgment of this basic fact that caused me to recoil when I read the following in a column two weeks ago. Speaking about the Goans who apply for Portuguese passports, the author argued that “Surely, those Goans’ sudden love for ex-Estado da India's 'Patria' and clamour for Portuguese passports is but an undisguised attempt to infiltrate the European Union job market for low-end positions which have no native takers”. “Most of those 'patriotas'” he continued, “know nothing about Portugal, and do not intend to live in Portugal. Many of them are ready to beg, borrow, bribe and cheat to achieve their ends”.

The statement is a clear example of the many boundaries that men have built in order to marginalize each other. The boundaries in operation in the sentences are the boundaries of race, nationality, caste and class. God created no boundaries, and this was the way the colonizer found the world, a world populated by individuals bearing multiple identities and moving easily from one space to another. The colonizer to a large extent allowed that world to continue as such; indeed they actively encouraged the migration of populations from one part of the colonized world to the other, until the beginning of the 20^th century, as the era of decolonization began. It was when the colonized started changing the direction of movement and arriving in large numbers on hitherto white shores, that this world came to an end. It was at this moment that the restrictive international regime that we take for granted today came into operation. International travel would no longer be a simple matter of jumping into a boat and seeking your fortune elsewhere. International travel now follows definite rules. Capital and citizens of the former colonial world travel with practically no difficulty. Those from among the formerly colonized, like Goa, the Central American republics and North Africa have severe restrictions placed on them. When they do travel, they are seen as infiltrators, defilers of paradise and treated as terrorists.

Regardless of the legitimacy of every human being to free movement across the globe however, can this Goan applicant for the Portuguese passport in fact be seen as the infiltrator? The Goan travels to Portugal not through any favour extended by the Government of Portugal but by a right that dates from before the Liberation of Goa, from a time when all Goans were citizens of Portugal, and who lost the right to Portuguese citizenship as a result of the Indian action. The Goan applicant is in fact not applying for Portuguese citizenship; but merely initiating a process to reassert their eclipsed right to Portuguese citizenship. To brand them as infiltrators is not merely a grave misrepresentation, but belies a sinister agenda. Labeling as illegal those who migrate by right to Portugal serves not only to delegitimize their presence in Portugal and Europe, but goes further to delegitimize the very process through which they go to Portugal.

What is baffling however is that it is not a European or a Portuguese who is branding the Goan as infiltrator, but a Goan himself. The puzzle falls in place when we realize that the author is implying that only those who know about Portugal, intend to live there, and who do not have to beg, borrow, bribe or steal, have a natural right to get Portuguese citizenship. In Portuguese-Goa, this meant the upper-caste and upper-class Goan (across religions) who spoke Portuguese and knew about Portugal. While from 1910 all Goans regardless of religion were Portuguese citizens, the same was effectively realized only by this small group of ‘assimilated’ folk. They were members of a coterie that incarnated the Empire in Africa and considered Portugal another home. The veiled thrust of this argument is that it is this class alone that must benefit from Portuguese citizenship. What this argument is doing, however, is to also employ the logic of nationalism. The logic of nationalism turns the logic of citizenship on its head. It is not the state that exists for you, but you who must exist for the state. Thus, you must love your country, know all about it – and yes, promise to never leave it. A perfect case of man being made for the Sabbath. The logic of nationalism however, is also the logic that is used by the internal elite to control the masses of the state. Thus, you have this argument: “Don’t let all of them go to Portugal, restrict this ‘benefit’ to only those who know Portugal.” That is to say, allow the freedom of travel to those of us who are one of you – the elite who matter. Colonialism did not end with decolonization, it merely opened up another, more subtle front of exploitation. An external elite left, to allow the space for a local elite to work in tandem with the former. This was the compromise of decolonization. We’ll leave, and as long as you control your teeming huddled masses, we’ll recognize your right to travel freely when you want to. And clearly, this is exactly what is happening.

The Goan leaves Goa for a plethora of reasons. She leaves because there is no work to be found in a nepotistic banana republic governed by a few families. She leaves to take any menial job abroad because there is no respect for labour in Goa-India, and you don’t have to suffer casteist humiliation on a daily basis. That they would beg, borrow or steal is testament to their desperation to get out. That we would condemn their desperation speaks for the callousness of our regime. And at the end of the day, is it a sin to want a better life?

God did not create a world with boundaries. He created it so for a reason, so that we could go forth and satisfy our wants, enrich ourselves, share it with others and hand it over to others when their time comes. The boundaries have been erected by man. And boundaries fall. They fell in Jericho, they fell in Berlin, they will fall in Palestine, and through the movement of Goans and other emigrants across the world, they will inshallah fall all over God’s earth. And I know that I will live to see the day. Amen.

(Published in the Gomantak Times, 30 July 2008)

Rethinking the Goan 'Revolution'

Some weeks ago, in the heat of the summer, I heralded a revolutionary moment. As citizens took to the Gram Sabhas, I was sure, that coming on the heels of the opposition to the Regional Plan, we could expect revolutionary change in Goa. Via our raised voices in the Gram Sabhas, we would challenge a State that withdraws into silence when it comes to safeguarding our interests. We would also challenge a State that was colluding with the forces of global capital, as they sought to enrich themselves even as they pushed us into poverty. This challenge, would involve the assertion of the right of the people to ultimately determine the location of projects in their immediate locality. It would involve the assertion of people to the recognition of their basic rights to life and livelihood over the rights of speculative capital and obscenely disproportionate profits. It would, above all, lay the foundation for a reorganized State marked by dialogue at all levels, rather than diktats from the top. Reviewing events unfold however, I have for sometime now, been contemplating if it is possible that I erred in heralding this revolutionary moment. Was it a possible misdiagnosis, where what we see occurring in Goa is no revolution at all, but a fitna?

An Arabic word used in Islamic legal thought, fitna has a wide range of meanings – schism, sedition, defection, desertion- invariably used as a term of disapproval. The disapproval was the result of Islamic jurists who viewed negatively the crumbling of the Caliphate and the establishment of regional and local powers. In a marvelous work on the Maratha svarajya however, Andre Wink argues that we should understand fitna as a socio-political upheaval, one that in the original context implied the ‘forging of alliances’ and was the ‘normal mechanism of state-formation’. In the context that Wink examines -the Maratha challenge to the Mughal Empire - he argues that the Maratha svarajya was not a rupturing of the Mughal Empire, or a movement in protest. It was in fact a fitna; a re-altering of alliances between the Maratha state and the Mughal empire, with greater powers now being handed out to the regional power. The fitna was a mechanism of state-formation that saw ‘management by conflict’, rather than the ‘management of conflict’, as the key to political success.

Like the fitna a revolution also involve upheaval and conflict. However, it demands more than these aspects of instability. The Persian and Urdu word for revolution, Inquilab, allows us some insight into the demands that a revolution makes of us. Inquilab which signifies an overthrow has as its root the Arabic word for heart, qalb. It is the constant act of the heart, of overturning, pulsating, pumping with blood that allows qalb to be used as a root for inquilab. Qalb has however, also been translated to mean the mind, the spirit, or something that is innermost, something deep within. All of these multiple meanings rather than contradict each other, contribute to our understanding of what a revolution, or inquilab really is, or must be. It asks us to get to the heart or the essence of a matter. It asks us to turn things around, not only systematically, but to also view things from as many perspectives as possible. A third meaning, is akin to the act of ploughing, where we are exhorted to turn the soil of society, the soil of culture, or the soil of our soul. Those of us familiar with Christian symbolism will realize that it is only if the soil is turned, that is able to receive the seed that heralds new life. And so it is with the revolution that requires an overturning, not merely for the sake of opposition, but for the creation of a new order. This new order eventually asks not for superficial changes but for changes deep within the innermost recesses of our soil, and likewise of society.

Goa, I would now correct myself, is in the throes not of revolution, but of a fitna. Consider the fact that rather than focus on issues of equity, what we constantly seem to get drawn to are issues of outsiders/migrants taking over our land. If this is, as many of us keep arguing, not the real issue, why is it that we keep coming back to the outsider issue? One way of explaining this is to understand the events in Goa as born from the challenge being posed to our internal elite by a national and global elite. The social order in Goa is changing, and changing drastically. Old hierarchies are increasingly under challenge. One has only to look at the manner in which former establishmentarian newspapers that would block out significant events in Goa are being forced to change tactic owing to the arrival of the Times of India. If mining money was earlier being used to control state and society in Goa, today this monopoly is being challenged by money that pours in from the ‘outside’. If the local elite is to continue to retain its hold over local society therefore, it is imperative that they create a unified local opposition. There is no better way to create this unified local opposition than creating the bogeyman of the outsider.

While the Goan unrest will dissuade external investment in the short term, it has definite benefits to the local elite. The local elite displays its continued relevance to external elites wishing to invest in Goa by displaying its ability to mobilize the masses under the call to protecting our land from outsiders. The message is clear, cooperate with us since we hold the key to maintain the environment necessary for profitable investment. It seems to me that if we understand the unrest in Goa, as the mobilization of popular discontent, by existing elites we would understand the situation in Goa much better. For the sole reason that issues of livelihoods (that include employment) are heard less frequently than the calls to keep Goa beautiful, and that the outsider/migrant issue dominates, we can be sure that the popular discontent in Goa is a manipulation of popular discontent. There can be no doubt that there is popular discontent that is struggling to find utterance. The tragedy is that this discontent is being effectively manipulated by the dominant groups within the State. What we are currently witness to in Goa is really a management by conflict, as less relevant or non-issues are pushed forward as the bases to fight on.

The moment of both inquilab and fitna are moments of change. The moment of inquilab however allows for radical and equitable change, while fitna allows for conflict to be used as a management tool. As with the Maratha svarajya the model of governance does not change, it is merely one ruler that gets more power than the other. The peasant sees no difference. Goa will see revolutionary change if only we don’t get sidetracked by the non-issue of outsiders (conveniently identified in the past few days as the Muslim) that is propelling us, even exhorting us, toward violence.

(Published in the Gomantak Times 9 July 2008)

Majoritarianism and the Fascist threat to Democracy

Let us begin by thanking heaven for the miraculous growth of various groups in opposition to the corruption and autocracy that marks the Indian Republic in Goa at this point in our history. They push through the debris of our society, just as the mushrooms will soon push through the deadwood, providing flavourful nutrition to our meals. One such group was stuck on the name that it should adopt. A faction within the group suggested one name, while another proposed another divergent name. A member of the minority group indicated that she had firm ideological reservations with regard to one of the names and would find it difficult to participate in the operation of such a group. She pointed out that a name is not merely a name; it is also a statement of our politics and priorities. There was an uproar; pleas were made to her that we should all be united in our opposition to the challenge that Goa is facing. And yet she stood firm in her opposition. Regardless of her sentiments the issue was put to vote and the first name won the vote. It was now held that since the majority had won the ballot she should, in the democratic spirit acquiesce to the winning name, her reservations notwithstanding.

It is on this issue that I would like to intervene. Does the voice of the majority in fact constitute the democratic option? Or is there another more meaningful way in which we could contemplate democracy, especially in the context where via our ‘Revolution’ we are attempting to create a democratic Goa.

On the 27^th of May, the newly created Nehru Centre Goa, hosted a lecture by Mridula Mukherjee, Director of the Nehru Library in Delhi, and an acclaimed scholar. In the course of her lecture on Nehruvian Universalism, Mukherjee made a crucial observation. Never forget, she said, that Hitler was voted into power in the course of electoral politics. Fascism she pointed out rides on the energies of the people, it gains power from the collective voice of the majority people. And yet, not for one moment can we assume that fascist politics is democratic. If therefore, majoritarianism is not democracy in action, what is? And what role does the minority play in it?

Democratic politics is ideally not about the establishment of a final line, but about opening up the space for socio-political dialogue. It provides a dialogical basis for decision making. In the case above then, in the event of a majority, and the existence of a principled opposition to a point, is this majority capable of engaging in dialogue with the minority? If need be, is the majority capable of accommodating the minority position, if it does not violate any fundamental principles of the association? This would be an ideal democratic position. Unfortunately however, the Indian democracy has rejected taking to such a notion of democracy. Such a position as I argue for, has for a long time now, been called ‘minority appeasement’. This appeasement is deemed against the spirit of democracy, and it is this spirit that has shaped the Indian democracy into a simple game of majority politics.

Rather than the engagement in dialogue, the Indian democracy, has become the exercise of achieving goals. Those who stand in the way of those goals, by dissenting, even if for good reason, from the majoritarian position, are seen as threats to our unity and ultimately the nation. And so it is that we blame the Muslim who wishes to retain his beard, the tribal who refuses to give up her livelihood for the good of the nation, the ‘slum’ dweller who refuses to move out so that a high-rise can be built over her home. These dissenters are now seen as the problem, when in fact all they ask for is space to be different. These are dangerous trends in a democracy, especially when both in the electoral sphere, and the social, the majority is seen as having the right to determine the final position (solution) to issues that vex us. This position is a lot closer to fascism that we would like to admit. And yet, tragically, not a few of us are willing to acknowledge that the Indian democracy is in fact a society tethering on the brink of fascism

In our illustration for this discussion, the lady with the objection was asked to agree to the majoritarian position. We must be united, the majority argued, in the face of the opposition we face. And similarly are various minorities silenced into accepting the majoritarian position. These majorities, we should realise are produced, not by invoking unity, but enforcing uniformity.

This discussion on democracy, fascism, majorities and minorities is not without relevance to our Goan ‘revolution’. Those of us who are participants in this revolution realise that we are faced with decision-making at every step. In the course of this decision-making however, are we producing consensus by pushing some issues to the margins? Are we manufacturing consensus by creating priorities of threats? For example, as we unite Goa on the basis of the threat of real-estate scams, destruction of our environment and mega-housing projects, are we turning a blind eye to the communalization and the silent destruction of our society? In many cases in the attempt to create this ‘unity’ we are promoting people whose position on religious and other minorities are frankly fascist. When attempting to rally people to our cause, are we taking the easy way out and projecting the enemy as the outsider (the migrant) rather than exposing the class and caste divisions within our society that are creating the ground for the destruction of land in Goa?

The unity that is being created to pass Gram Sabha and other resolutions is tainted because it leaves the interests of Muslims, who are hounded in Salcette, it excludes the rights of tribals to land in Goa, and blames the migrant for the mess we have created for ourselves.

Democracy is about dialogue. If the upheaval in Goa is to lay the foundation for a Democratic Goa, it is imperative that we be open to dialogue, and constantly wrestle with the complex problems presently posed before us at. We ought not to simply squash it in the name of unity. There would be no space in our republic for an enforced uniformity in the guise of unity. Unity should mean the maintenance of space for difference and even conflicting opinions, and keeping open the space for dialogue. Uniformity on the other, asks that a particular point of view be silenced so as to create the image of unity in the likeness of the majority. This uniform agenda of the majority cannot be the basis for democracy it can only usher in a fascist polity.

(Published in the Gomantak Times 2 July 2008)

Thinking about Political Violence

Once again Manohar Parrikar has displayed his contempt for the democratic process. A false and irresponsible statement when sitting in a position of responsibility, without having any evidence to back up his statement, underlines his contempt for the citizens who he feels will gullibly swallow everything he says—and, even if they don’t, since there is no way they can curb him, who cares! This episode underlines his constant attempt to overthrow any existing government so that he has a chance to take over power. The role of an opposition is to wait out its time, and act as a watch-dog of the democratic process, not to take over power by engineering an unstable socio-political scenario. There is no doubt that Parrikar will continue with these irresponsible statements, since this is really the nature of his commitment to democracy. He may still get elected, but it is gradually becoming clear that if we do vote for him, we vote for his promises of autocracy, not the reign of a democratic rule of law. There is good cause to believe that the People’s movements have gotten as far as they have in Goa because Parrikar is not Chief Minister. He would have, as Chief Minister, dubbed us all Naxals and terrorists and thrown us without rights into jail.

Parrikar’s latest statement has nevertheless fulfilled an important task by introducing the idea of Naxalism into the Goan context. He has forced us to contemplate the place of acts of political violence as a way to address the injustices we are facing.

Any contemplation of acts of political violence must necessarily begin from the recognition that the act of political violence by the revolutionary or the activist is really the act of counter-violence. This fact was clearly pointed out at the multiple press conferences after Parrikar’s statement. The Goan people are victims of State terrorism. This is particularly true for those Goans in the mining belt who have silently borne this violence since Liberation. They are victims of State terrorism because the State refuses to recognise their right to a decent and dignified existence, and their rights to common property. The State encourages the privatization of common lands for the benefit of a few who effectively control the Government. When people protest peacefully and persistently, the violence of the State is unleashed on them, as has been done by the police in Colamb and Advalpal. Parrikar’s identification of Seby Rodrigues as a Naxal was another attempt to violently intimidate the people of Goa, and make one individual an example for the rest. Not enough importance has been given to the fact that Naxals are treated as terrorists, and regular rules of criminal procedure, that ensure the basic rights of the individual, have long since ceased to apply to the suspected terrorist.

The Goan State is the perpetrator of violence because it has emptied the State of the rule of law. The reason Gram Sabhas went on the rampage all through the summer, and the reason people are protesting on the streets on an almost daily basis, is because the State has stopped following the rules and regulations that it ought to be the guardian of. The State has shown us in numerous examples that it does not respect democratic processes, and acts only when it confronts violence. Thus the work on the IT Park in Dona Paula was stopped after active (though cowardly and reprehensible) acts of violence on the site. Similarly, the SEZ and the Regional Plan was stopped when the State was faced with the power of angry crowds. We must not forget that it was not regular procedure that got us the breathing space that we now enjoy but the threat of violence; revolutionary violence in the case of the SEZ and Regional Plan, and plain violence in the case of the IT Park.

Very clearly then, Goa is already in the grip of the logic of political violence. Initiated by the State this logic allows only violent acts to attract the attention of this bully State. We should not however, therefore presume that this violence by the State necessitates the shedding of blood or the destruction of physical infrastructure. Political violence is not limited to the act of blowing up people and buildings. Where silence is deliberately imposed on a people, it is an act of violence. The mere act of speaking up and gaining the attention of the State is therefore, in the context of a rogue State – the Goan State being prime example- an act of political counter-violence.

When Parrikar says that there are groups instigating people to violence, he continues to show his contempt of the intellectual capabilities of the citizen. One can be instigated only if one is not used to, or incapable of thinking. If people do take to more violent political acts, it is because they find no other way to express their anger and frustration toward the State. Parrikar himself does not deny that these feelings are rife in the mining area. The political establishment would do well to take note of this growing frustration in the State, and take steps necessary to prevent our collective slide into a spiral of bloodshed. Unfortunately rather than attempting to address the situation, they are still trying to maintain the status quo, where the system of an elected government responsible to the people is a farce. We have instead an elected government that is totally allied to the local capitalists in the State and does their bidding.

There are two broad options before the angry citizen in such a situation. One is the way of the mob, the other the way of the revolutionary. The violence of the mob is an unthinking violence. The mob does not really know why it does an act. It just knows that it is angry and does as it is directed. This violence eventually gets us nowhere, and is a violence that we do not need. It only serves as an opportunity for continued and heightened State repression and an eventual return to the status quo. Revolutionary violence on the other hand, is the conscious act of transgression by an individual or group that has an agenda for change. Such actions don’t necessarily call for destruction or bloodshed; in fact these may not even be necessary as Mahatma Gandhi, the greatest of the guerillas showed us. Consciously chosen acts of transgression of the rules that enforce silence is the way of the revolutionary. Every such action is no doubt prompted by the repressive State, but every action of the revolutionary disables the capacity of the State to act; it frustrates the logic of the State. An accumulation of a multitude of such conscious acts of transgression with a clear agenda in mind will get us a renewed Goa.

If Goa does see Naxal type violence, the State and its elite must be held wholly responsible for it. The role of the activist within this violent environment, is to direct the frustration of the citizenry toward revolutionary acts of transgression, away from the option of the mindless violence of the mob.

(Published in the Gomantak Times, 25 June 2008)

The Rape of Goa...as a tool to save Goa?

The Rape of Goa, a photo documentary, by Rajan Parrikar is filled with images of violence. It speaks of a violence done to the earth, as hills are cut and forests ‘shaved’ off. It speaks of the violence done to local inhabitants, as concrete apartments rise and threaten the security and life-styles of these older residents. All in all, it is a vivid description of some of the more visible atrocities being committed in the name of development within the state. And yet, despite all of this documenting something is not quite right with the documentary.

Art historians tell us that works of art are not only geared toward a definite audience, they are also capable of creating an audience. When viewing a work of art, the viewer is transformed into a being who is not only able to appreciate the work, but also act out the message of the art work. And so it is that within the great Gothic cathedrals of Europe, the worshippers are reminded that they are mere creatures in the grand and marvelous work of creation that is the universe. Their place is to live their lives in praise of the Creator, uphold the system that He has divinely mandated, and respect the persons who mediate His mandate. Similarly with ‘corporate environments’ which create the cubicular work-spaces. These cubicles transform an individual capable of million acts of creation and leisure, into one that believes that the sole purpose of life is really to work; and be aware that they can be monitored, just as they monitor others. If the art-work produces a certain kind of an audience, what sort of an audience does ‘The Rape of Goa’ create?

The answer emerged in the course of the viewing of this documentary in the Conference Hall of the Hotel Mandovi, the day before. ‘The Rape of Goa’ is filled not only with multiple images of violences being visited on Goa and Goans, it is also filled with captions that provoke the viewer. In this slick production, music lends itself to the captions presented to the viewer. These captions by and large point out that the ‘developments’ in Goa are by outsiders and for outsiders, in connivance with a bunch of politicians, builders and miners. Overcome with the visuals being presented, one of the viewers at the Hotel Mandovi, was forced to cry out “Ye soglen Ghanti!” (All these Ghatties!). This is exactly the kind of response that ‘The Rape of Goa’ is expected to draw. The documentary seeks to provoke you, and then push you into a series of actions based on that provocation.

The question that we need to ask however is whether provocation is what we in Goa need to be doing right now. Is it provocation, or introspection that is required? A provocation creates a mob, and mobs don’t think or contemplate, they act unthinkingly and tend towards blind violence. Indeed, at the Hotel Mandovi, one of the initial comments was that the time for discussion and debate was over, it is now the time for action. The tendency towards this sort of rhetoric, one that constantly seeks to create mobs- and the simultaneous threat of violence - has been a constant feature of the mobilization in the upheaval that Goa has been seeing for a couple of years now, and this trend is extremely unhealthy.

This trend is unhealthy, because we don’t seek to engage people in dialogue and debate about how we can deal with these unhealthy developments and our personal contribution to this alleged ‘Rape’. We just identify public enemies, inflame passions, and mobilize people against these public enemies. Most of the time, as the debate in the Hotel Mandovi showed, these enemies are the builder-politician nexus and the migrant. It is the poor migrant however, a victim of multiple circumstances, who is the easiest target for mob violence. While there have been multiple instances of migrants and their children being targeted for violence, we are yet to see similar violence directed toward the builder or politician, or the buildings that they erect. (This is not a plea for such violence though).

Goa has seen numerous movements in the past, one of which was the Konkani language agitation that similarly created the enemy in the shape of Marathi. This image of the enemy was mobilized the masses, who were eventually let down. The goodies of state recognition were gathered by elite groups, and those reliant on the Roman script were left out, as their accent and script was deemed less that proper. In this context then, we must perhaps contemplate if what we had were not mass movements but mob movements? Mobs that were created, and carefully manipulated by those at the helm of power? The common person is not served by such mobilizations, only elite groups are, and in the present mobilization we should strive hard to stay away from such tendencies.

One of the options projected as a solution to the ‘Rape of Goa’ is obtaining special status on the lines of Jammu and Kashmir and Himachal Pradesh. As seductive and attractive as it sounds, we should view with suspicion Hema Sardesai’s (and others) impassioned plea for special status for Goa. In the history of the Konkani movement, at the crucial moment, Konkani was defined as only that written in Devanagari script, cutting out entirely votaries of the Roman script, who formed the bulk of the masses then. How are we to be sure, that when this Special status is granted to Goa, the ‘local’ is not defined in a similarly perverse manner? We must remember that vast numbers of Goans are migrating outside of India. While many of them are also applying for ‘Person of Indian Origin’ (PIO) status, it should be noted that ownership of agricultural land in India is not available to them. Similarly, it is not possible for PIOs to purchase property in Jammu and Kashmir. The present mobilizations in Goa, seek to retain the ‘agrarian’ aesthetic of Goa. The Goan who migrates therefore, and yet wishes to retain a space in Goa, could possibly stand to loose from a move toward Special Status. The demand for Special Status for Goa needs to keep in mind therefore, much more than simply the current depredations of the Goan environment.

The ‘Rape of Goa’ may document the activities that most of us in Goa deem a matter a concern. However, it is not necessarily part of the answer primarily because it seeks to rouse and inflame the passions of a mob. It does not lead us to ask more penetrating questions about the structure of society in Goa that allows for such activities to take place. It pins the blame on politicians, without questioning our own complicity in this problem, allowing us to blame ‘greedy Goans’ and outsiders. A mob does not think independently, and what we require right now, is independence of thought and lots of it. This the ‘Rape of Goa’ leaves no space for, and for this reason must be a suspect tool in the battle to ‘Save Goa’.

(Published in the Gomantak Times, June 18 2008)

Anti-intellectualism and the Goan environment

To be an academic and an ‘intellectual’ is not necessarily about abstract thinking irrelevant to everyday life. On the contrary intellectualism is about asking hard questions and thinking issues through. It is about not being satisfied with the obvious and the commonsensical answer, looking for the linkages between particular acts and larger trends within society, and offering more informed answers to them. Why then, is there a strong tendency within Indian and Goan society to shrug off the intellectual, and when engaging in academic work to resist asking the hard question, and instead to engage in delightful descriptions of a situation? The answer to this question lies I believe, not with the irrelevance of academic work to daily life, but to the answers that it will reveal. Answers which will eventually shakeup the status-quo on which Indian and Goan life are ultimately based.

The difficulty of being an academic in Goan society has bothered me for a very long time. Only recently however, after random conversations with activists who have been in the thick of the fight to ‘Save Goa’, did the possible answer eventually fall into place. The first episode in this revelation came from one of the ‘leaders’ of the campaign. “Arrey Jason”, he said “what you and I write is all very nice on paper. At the end of the day the battle is being fought on the ground, and it’s a dog-fight out there man”. The suggestion was clear, essays that probe current events for their meaning and implication have no value in ‘real’ life. Episode two is a conversation with the supporter of one of the fronts spearheading the resistance to the legislative destruction of Goa. I was arguing with her that the position that the front took of being ‘apolitical’ was in the end a position that undermined popular action and allowed for backroom manipulations. At the end of the day, every small individual action is also political. Her response to my elaborate argument was simple “Aaanh! But that is thinking too much no?” Episode three involves a recently emergent populist leader of the resistance to the State, who at the end of a discussion observed “Intellectualism is used to create false bogeymen and complicate the uncomplicated”. If these are the responses of the leaders of the Goan resistance, to academics, intellectual probing and asking hard questions, then my friends we are in serious trouble.

There are two kinds of responses to academic reflections; the first as illustrated in Episode two says that it’s too hard to think. The second illustrated by Episode one claims that it cannot understand, or that the thinking is irrelevant. The first response is sheer stupidity and laziness; the outright refusal to think. Why would be refuse to think though? In episode two, my attempt was to show how the front’s claim to being apolitical, was in fact a political position that fulfilled certain ends. It allows the front to selectively pick issues that it will fight, and rather than following democratic processes of resolving the issues, engage in backroom deals. Backroom deals at the end of the day are concluded primarily by groups that are committed to the status-quo; that is they differ on minor points, but are in agreement on the fundamental bases on which society is structured. The refusal to think therefore buttresses the social dominance of the members of the dominant groups in Goan society. Since we refuse to think through our positions, and how our positions are structured by our class interests, our actions rather than challenging a status-quo that unfairly privileges certain groups, go on to further reinforce our vested interests.

The second response to academic probing has us throwing up our hands saying it is unnecessarily complicated and irrelevant. If the claimants of the first response genuinely don’t want to think too much, the second response is the response of those who do in fact think, have realized the implications of the thought and use this statement to dismiss the thought to irrelevance. Any idea that has the capacity to disturb and upset the status-quo is thus laughed away as impractical nonsense. Thus episode one above is not about the irrelevance of abstract thinking, but the conscious choice to think about the problem in the established manner. It is the outright dismissal of another way of thinking through the same issue. The act of deeming academic reflection irrelevant is thus a profoundly political act that refuses to allow set ways of thinking to be challenged. What we have to necessarily remember is that a good amount of our common-sense is in fact the result of an entire edifice of thought, not unlike the elaborate reasonings of academic thought. Academic reasoning accepted today, forms the common sense of tomorrow.

Episode three is by far the most disturbing response to intellectual endeavours within our State. It charges the intellectual with unnecessarily complicating a simple issue and sowing the seeds of division and discord. This response stops short of suggesting what every totalitarian regime has proffered to its dissenting voices and intellectuals, get rid of (read kill) them. The tendency to see an issue as simple, with every possible aspect understood is one that marks populist movements and totalitarian states. Both systems see the dissenting voice, which suggests that all is not well with the diagnosis of the problem, as the enemy. This is increasingly emerging as one of the problems of the movements within Goa today, where simple diagnosis that blame the migrant, the foreigner, the non-enforcement of morality, are increasingly becoming popular. Within such an environment, the skeptical voice of the academic will not be a welcome one. Yet, this is exactly what Goa needs at this point of time.

I have tried to suggest that a single malady lies at the root of the anti-intellectual environment in Goan society and the ongoing campaign against Governmental corruption. The malady is a refusal to think issues through and a disinclination to ask the hard questions necessary for societal change. This discomfort can be traced directly to an unwillingness to challenge the inequitable social relations that are the basis of our society. Simply put, it is not that we are unable to think, we refuse to think because it will make us face the inequity that pads our otherwise comfortable existence. If this is indeed the case, then we must realize that the revolution we are engaged in is also severely limited. It is limited to being a battle between two elite groups who are agreed in continuing the inequity that allows them to be elite, and is hence compromised. If the current revolt is to truly become a revolution, then we must agree that the agenda of the revolution must take on board the concerns of Goa’s most marginalized communities as it own. Until then we will be engaging in merely cosmetic changes, leaving the reason for the rot untouched. There is no option but to face the hard questions, to pursue the answers they throw up, and then, reluctantly or otherwise pursue the paths that they open up.

(Published in the Gomantak Times June 11 2008)

Constitutional Theft of the Powers of Panchayats

The Constitution of India, ladies and gentlemen, has been stolen. It was stolen perhaps right from the very moment it was adopted, but being the all-encompassing document that it is, it has been stolen again. It was stolen on the 13^th of May 2008 by the Cabinet of the Government of Goa, speaking through the Chief Minister and the Minister for Panchayats when they indicated that “If the rules and procedures are followed, the panchayats have no right to revoke the license” of mega-housing and other development projects.

Ever since the embarrassing statement by these members of the Cabinet displayed their commitment to themselves rather than to the people, much has been written about the response of the Government. I would however, like to suggest that while the position that the Cabinet has taken is appalling, it is certainly not out of character for the elected governments of the Union of India. A primary characteristic that has marked these governments has been that of Constitutional theft.

The term Constitutional theft was introduced to us by the eminent jurist Upendra Baxi at a conference held on the positions taken by the Supreme Court in the course of the 1990s. Briefly put, Constitutional theft is the taking away of the promise of the Constitution by dominant groups and arms of the State. Now envision this situation, we have a Constitution that in its Preamble quite clearly indicates that it is “WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA” who “ENACT AND GIVE TO OURSELVES THIS CONSTITUTION”. The sovereignty of the State of India flows therefore from this grand collective of single individuals who constituted a document of hope. The Constitution also contained a vision for the realization of this sovereignty through the establishment of what that old man who we have all forgotten called ‘Gram Swaraj’. This vision was however aborted in the first act of constitutional theft when it was replaced with something called the Westminster model of democracy. Some attempt was made to remedy this situation through the insertion of the 73^rd and 74^th amendments. The wrangling between political elites in the Centre and at the States however, resulted in a further degradation of the vision for a grass-roots realization of democracy. Rather that recognize the Gram Panchayats as constitutional bodies, equal in stature to the Centre or the State, the political compromise reached to allow these two amendments saw the creation of bodies that are effectively puppets of the State. Any powers that the Panchayats may have are in fact powers that the State has deigned to give away to the Panchayats (Art. 243 G). The Panchayats effectively become therefore, creations of the State beholden unto the State for their very existence. True the Constitution has also provided for the Constitution of a Finance Commission that will ensure that Panchayats have adequate funds to meet the costs of fulfilling their governmental role, true that there is Constitutional provision for a District Planning Committee that will integrate the planning development plans for entire districts. Yet this grand framework still struggles to find root in Indian soil because of the fundamental fact that I would call an act of Constitutional theft. That fact is the failure for the Panchayat to find an independent (though not autonomous) position within the 73^rd and 74^th amendments.

It is because of this history of Constitutional theft that our Cabinet can be so brazen. They can be so brazen because they know they have a point. And yet, as I have sought to point out in an earlier column, the revolution that is on in Goa is not one that is based on legality, for legality has clearly failed us, it is one based on legitimacy. What we are witnessing in Goa through the drama unfolding in one Gram Sabha after another, is the only action that will right the Constitutional wrong that has been done to the people of India. The actions of local people demanding that they must necessarily have a say in the manner in which their local environment is altered. These actions are not mere legal actions, these are sovereign actions, that demand that the law be re-altered to recognize the centrality of the citizen to the process of both planning and development.

Mr. Azgaokar is concerned that “If projects are closed down forcefully, there would be no development in Goa.” Azgaokar is using an old and much abused argument, but it doesn’t hold anymore. The argument was wielded effectively in the 80’s and the 90’s when the voices against central and state development for elites was being opposed by a smaller groups. Today, it is entire villages that are standing up to this resumption of their lands for the creation of private paradises for rootless speculators. The people seem to be articulating their vision of development Mr. Azgaokar, it is one where the Quality of Life takes precedence over the generation of resources for a few. The problem is that the powers that be don’t seem to be heeding the growing signs of trouble, preferring to keep sustaining the status quo rather than realizing that the time has come for the status quo to bow out, and herald a new era of governance.

If the rest of India cares to take a leaf from out of our book, these are the actions that will see the need to recognize the Panchayat not as deriving powers from the State, but as holding powers in its own right, because the people that constitute it are sovereign. These are actions that at the end demand that the Constitution itself be brought back to the promise that it was removed from.

(Published in the Gomantak Times 28 May 2008)