After Binayak Sen…

A few months back Indian National Security Adviser MK Narayanan lamented that a “large numbers of the intellectual elite and civil liberties bodies provide a backup to the [Maoist] movement in terms of agitprop and other activities. And, the fact that the Maoists “are still able to get support of intellectual classes is disturbing. Unless we can divorce the two . . . [defeating the Maoists] is not that easy.”

Thus the McCarthyite policy of terrorizing the intellectuals continues vigorously. After Chhattisgarh, where Binayak Sen was made an example, Orissa tops the list in repressing activists and intellectuals. The latest is – Nishan’s editor, Lenin Kumar. He is apparently arrested for exposing the fascist forces’ involvement in Kandhamal riots.

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Three held in Orissa for publishing inflammatory book

Bhubaneswar (IANS): Three people, including a journalist, have been detained here for allegedly printing and circulating an inflammatory book on the communal violence that Orissa witnessed in August and September, police said Monday.

The book “Dharma Nare Kandhamalare Raktara Banya” (Flood of blood in Kandhamal in the name of religion) is said to have highly objectionable content and copies of it have been seized by the police. The book has been circulated in large numbers in the state, officials said.

“We have detained three people in this connection on Sunday,” Deputy Commissioner of Police Himanshu Lal told IANS.

At least 700 copies of the book were seized from a printing press and those detained include its owner identified as Lenin, who also edits a periodical called ‘Nishan’, an official said.

The printing press has been sealed, the official added.

Civil liberty groups in the state have condemned the police action against Lenin and say the charges against him are false.

Orissa’s Kandhamal district, located some 200 km from here, witnessed widespread communal violence after the murder of Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) leader Swami Laxmanananda Saraswati and four of his aides at his ashram Aug 23.

While the police blamed Maoists for the killings, some Hindu organisations held Christians responsible for the crime and launched attacks on the community.

Thousands of Christians were forced to flee from their homes after their houses were attacked by rampaging mobs. More than 10,000 people are still living in government-run relief camps in the district. Courtesy:The Hindu

Editor of Nishan detained

BHUBANESWAR, Dec 7: The city police “detained” Mr Lenin Kumar, editor of Nishan, a magazine and raided a printing press raising eyebrows amongst human rights and social activist circles here.

Mr Kumar’s wife, Mrs Sumita Kundu, a social activist and member of the Committee for Release of Political Prisoners decried the “trampling” of human rights and Supreme Court orders by police. “Police ven refused to tell us why they were detaining my husband. They have not told me where they were taking him,” she said. She alleged that policemen entered the house and seized a few items including a CD and pen drive. Strangely, the police also did not divulge anything. “We are taking the items for certain verification,” a police officer said.

Reliable sources said Mr Kumar was first taken to three different police stations in the city. The police has seized booklets published by Mr Kumar on the Kandhamal riots. Courtesy: The Statesman

December 6, 1992

The Babri Masjid was attacked on December 6, 1992. The terrorists are still at large.

Terrorism, Mass Hysteria and Hegemony in India

Pratyush Chandra

All incidents in India that have occurred recently, which go by a blanket name terrorist attacks, have been viewed as self-explanatory. A terrorist and his acts don’t need any explanation. A terrorist is like any other professional who is supposed to do what he is trained for. Why does he do that – is not a question to be asked. It is his own “free will” which clashes with others’ free will. Haven’t we been time and again accused of talking about the human rights of the “terrorists” while “ignoring” those of the soldiers and policemen who are “victims” of the terrorist attacks? Their opposite location with respect to the hegemonic centre does not mean anything.

I feel the post-modern capitalist celebration of relativism indicates towards an important aspect of the reconstruction of power, civil society and expression in the age of finance capital. The footlooseness of faceless finance capital characteristic of this age has intensified the process of solid melting into the air to an ever-increasing degree – every click on the keyboard makes, changes and destroys billions of lives every moment. This has led to a multiple crisscrossed entrenchment of every segment in the society trying to hold on to something solid – an identity or something… In the process, every ‘melting’ identity poses its own language which could not be understood beyond the space-time of its posing. This is what we can call a continuous process of subalternization, of manufacturing subalternities that cannot act, but simply react in the hegemonic paradigm. When useful things become commodities, their self-expression (through their own use-value) is incomprehensible in the market, they must express their worth through the hegemonic reactive monetary expression of exchange-value – a general form of value.

Thus, the resolution of “civilizational” conflicts (between various levels of subalternities) is possible in the within-the-system framework only through a generalized cutthroat competition or simply mutual annihilation – the well-armed and defiant robots clashing with each other – “the terrorists”, the security personnel etc. The only language that is mutually understandable is that of the guns and bombs… So the citizenry can’t empathize with the terrorists, they are always aliens. And so are the (counter)terrorists and their ‘innocent’ protégées for “them”. They are reduced to reactive agencies within the hegemonic game-plans. They can only react to each other’s moves.

Today’s terrorism is a desperate cry to make others’ listen to what subjects/terrorists are unable to express and what “others” either refuse to hear or are unable to understand. It is the failure and crisis of self-representation let out in the hegemonic language of coercion and terror. This seems absurd but this is as absurd as the absurdity of the conjuncture.

The whole arrogant security discourse that the media and security mafia in India pose is far more absurd than the defiant terrorist attacks. What can be more absurd than the astheticised victimhood of the “great” India that they sell while being slyly proud whenever a terrorist attack takes place in the country, as that makes them feel to be in the league of the greatest victims of global terrorism – the US, UK and Israel. So now we have our own 9/11. This is the level of discourse in the Indian media in the context of the Mumbai incidents.

The recent unabashed display of an elitist, confessedly, “anti-political” stress on security infrastructure and technology to resolve every conflict and the aim to put away politics on security matters are nothing but an insistent inability and a lack of will to understand conflicts. Nobody is asking for an everyday democratic control over every aspect of social life, rather what is being provoked by the panicky bourgeoisie and petty bourgeoisie in India is a hysteria in favour of a trans-political security and intelligence machinery – which can easily become a permanent coercive, of course, an efficient, bureaucracy which regulates the social life.

Terrorism in the present shape is not a threat for the system but like its counterpart is an opportunity for the hegemony to create consensus to (counter)terrorise (and subalternise) the alienated voices and stop them from becoming a meaningful and organised threat to the system by transcending their own subalternity. Anyway, as a prominent postmodernist, postcolonialist scholar categorically said, “Who the hell wants to protect subalternity? Only extremely reactionary, dubious anthropologistic museumizers. No activist wants to keep the subaltern in the space of difference… You don’t give the subaltern voice. You work for the bloody subaltern, you work against subalternity.” (“Interview With Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak”, Ariel: A Review of International English Literature (July 1992), 23(3):29-47)

A Round Table on Encounter Deaths

The ‘Alternative Guidelines Towards Encounter Deaths’ and Strategies of Resistance
Date: 28 November 2008 Time: 3.00. p.m. Venue: Dayar-e Mir Taqui Mir, Jamia Millia Islamia (near the Vice Chancellor’s office)

Jamia Teachers’ Solidarity Group invites you to a Round Table on the ‘Alternative Guidelines Towards Encounter Deaths’ with special focus on the extra-constitutional powers given to Special Forces and Strategies of Resistance keeping in mind the present context where the naked brutality of the police and armed forces have unleashed a reign of terror not only on the Muslim population residing in the country in the states of Kashmir, Delhi, Gujarat, Maharashtra, Kerala but also in the north-eastern states of India particularly Manipur. The logic of countering terrorism/armed resistance might have different contextual specificities but the laws used for ‘encounter’ and the manner in which the same is executed flouting all human rights guidelines is a major cause of concern today. The petition filed by Peoples’ Union of Liberties, Maharashtra and the alternative draft submitted to the Supreme Court and the favourable hearing it has received has strengthened the voices of alternatives across the country. While the Batla House encounter on 19th September has been the centre of our activities, it is necessary to link it to wider political struggles going on in the country as the incident is hardly an isolated one. In Delhi itself we have witnessed several encounters along with bomb blasts that keep happening like a ceremonial ritual giving the much needed masala for the media houses to run, elsewhere we read reports or view open terrorist activities of minorities being lynched and tortured to death by the self-proclaimed votaries of the Hindu majority and feel ‘protected’ by the distance that separates us from the event that might be a prime time show. The question is no longer confined to minority communities alone since it is not only religious or racial/ethnic scape-goating that is happening, but also in a calculated manner all voices that question the State and its institutions get throttled one way or the other. Civil rights movements therefore necessarily assume a kind of ‘defensive’ role – challenging the powers that be after an incident of violation has taken place. With the recent revelations of the CBI regarding the role of the Special Cell and the booking of criminals in saffron perhaps the tide is turning where an offensive campaign may be mobilized to instill policy changes in law that might be yet twisted to protect the rights of the people vis-à-vis the interests of the State.

The panel of initiators for the discussion are –
Prashant Bhushan –(Human Rights Lawyer) – Defence Counsel for the PUL petition in Supreme Court regarding alternative guidelines on encounter deaths; Sufian Siddiqui – (Supreme Court Lawyer), Bimol Akoijam – (JNU)

The discussants for the Round Table are – Gautam Navlakha – (Democratic Rights activist), Nirmalangshu Mukherji – (Dept. of Philosophy, DU), Tripta Wahi – (Dept. of History, DU), Vijay Singh – (Dept. of History, DU)

Seminar on Socialism For the Twenty First Century

New Socialist Initiative: a collective committed to the regeneration of revolutionary socialist politics invites you for a Seminar on Socialism For the Twenty First Century on Sunday 30th Nov at 4 P.M. Venue: Conference Hall, Rajendra Bhavan, 210 Deendayal Upadhyaya Marg, New Delhi – 110002

Humanity stands at the threshold of new crises and new possibilities. As global capitalism takes humanity through another round of economic crisis, increasing unemployment, and poverty, a simple and stark question raises its head. Is humanity condemned to live with exploitation, oppression, dehumanising working conditions, wars and a looming ecological catastrophe, or is it capable of building a society without class, caste, and gender injustices, a society where the path to growth is not paved with poverty, hunger and overworked human bodies, where competitive greed is not the most rewarded human emotion. Rulers of the world since times immemorial, form Egyptian Pharaohs to Greek slave owners to Chinese Emperors to the current capitalist breed have always believed that they rule over the best of the world. The question raised above would scare them. For the people on the other hand, this question offers a stark choice. Either they succumb to ruling class ideologies, their obfuscations, allurements and sedation, and remain blind to it. Or, they doubt, critique and ask questions; if humanity is to make a better world, how should it go about it? What lessons does history teach in this regard?

Ever since capitalism became the dominant social system, socialism has been integral to humanity’s endeavours to imagine and achieve a better social world. Against the private profit greed of capitalism, socialism pitted the ideal of collective well-being; against a discouraged and alienated mass of humans created by capitalist profit machines, socialism envisioned an active and organized humanity that is fully aware of historic capabilities and tasks; against the freedom to make profit by one that leads to the misery of many, socialism raised the banner of a society in which the ‘the free development of each is a condition for the free development of all.’ To imagine socialism will become irrelevant even while capitalist injustices continue, is to believe humanity to be a condemned species. On the other hand to imagine that specific answers to the above questions provided by socialist visionaries like Saint Simon, Fourier and Owen, or by Marx and Engels, who put socialist theory on a firm scientific basis, or by practitioners of socialism like Lenin and Mao, will be correct in every aspect in the context of current too will be incorrect. For, capitalism has changed. It has changed, through trial and errors while dealing with its own crises, and by its efforts to counter and deflect mass movements against its rule. The most significant changes have occurred in the political and ideological domain. Liberal bourgeois democracy has become the norm of state rule, not just in economically advanced countries, but in underdeveloped countries like India too. Feudal ideologies based on ideas of natural hierarchy and blind faith in the super natural have been replaced by individualism and consumerism of a mass society, which while freeing humans of hierarchical constraints also dis-empower them by obfuscating the social context of their life.

Revolutions of the twentieth century, the Russian, the Chinese, the Vietnamese, or the Cuban, managed to rid a segment of humanity from direct capitalism. History has shown that their success was only partial. While they succeeded in saving their societies from the crises they were in, they failed to put them irreversibly on the path to socialism. Our current context in the twenty first century demands a critical engagement with the history and legacy of these revolutions. Interestingly, it is also in the current context, at a stage of history already shaped by two centuries of capitalist rule and at a time when capitalism as a social system reigns unopposed for the first time globally, that one also hears renewed stirrings for socialism in settings as diverse as hills of Nepal in South Asia, and favelas of Venezuela in Latin America. What do experiences of these countries tell us about prospects of socialism?

We feel that it is time that we revisit these ongoing stirrings for socialism and also start the process of reenvisioning socialism for our times. To start a meaningful discussion New Socialist Initiative, which is a collective committed to the regeneration of revolutionary socialist politics has invited eminent journalist Anand Swaroop Verma, scholar-activist Achin Vanaik and thinker Ravi Sinha to share their ideas on the theme.

An Open letter to the Chief Election Commissioner

The Jamia Teachers’ Solidarity Group reacting sharply to the ongoing communal vitiation of the political environment by the Bharatiya Janata Party issued an open letter to the Chief Election Commissioner of India, Mr. N. Gopalaswami. The indiscriminate manner in which the Bharatiya Janata Party and its parent organizations had been targeting the minority communities in the country in Kandhamal, Dhule, Udulgudi creates an alarming situation that challenges the very moral fabric of a secular, democratic nation. Not only the credentials of a central university like Jamia Millia Islamia is being regularly brought into question, a sense of insecurity, fear and anxiety is created in the adjoining area of Batla House, Jamia Nagar, Abul Fazal Enclave, etc. where primarily the Muslim population resides. The hate campaign of the BJP has to be stopped at all cost and before the guilt of those who have been killed in the encounter, one of whom was a minor and the five who have been accused of being involved in seditious activities against the State is proved before a court of law, they cannot be referred to as terrorists

Subject: Demand to Restrain Bharatiya Janata Party targeting the Muslim community in Jamia and Batla House area in their election campaign.

Dear Sir,

Following the incident of encounter at L-18 in the Batla House area on September 19, 2008 where a MA Previous year student of Jamia Millia Islamia and a 17-year old boy were killed by the Special Cell on the ground of their involvement with the bomb blasts in Delhi and other cities of the country, Bharatiya Janata Party had been actively engaged in a virulent hate campaign fomenting communal sentiments in the country to garner votes in their favour. Two of the five young men who are in police custody for their alleged involvement in seditious activities are students of Jamia Millia Islamia, while the other three were young men seeking out a career in the city. The recent findings of the CBI regarding the activities of the Delhi Police Special Cell has cast a serious aspersion over the credibility of their findings and since the issue of Batla House ‘encounter’ is yet to be produced before the court of law, one cannot pronounce them as guilty. Thus, the constant reference by the BJP to the deceased (one of whom was a minor) and the five arrested as terrorists is not only malicious and politically motivated but also legally invalid.

We urge your office to immediately intervene in the matter and take necessary action against a political party like the Bharatiya Janata Party who have been campaigning for the forth-coming elections in a language that is contrary to the secular, democratic spirit of the Indian Constitution.

The letter was signed by several members of the teaching fraternity.

Thanking you,

Yours’ truly,

Manisha Sethi

Adil Mehdi

Anuradha Ghosh

Sreerekha

Bondage and Capitalism

Pratyush Chandra

A Review of Labour Vulnerability and Debt Bondage in Contemporary India, CEC, March 2008, xii+92, Price – Rs 200.

The persistence of “debt bondage” in India has long mesmerised the progressive intellectuals and activists, a vast majority of whom still consider its existence as a reminder of the amphibian (semi-feudal, semi-capitalist) character of India’s political economy and its underdevelopment – overloaded with pre-capitalist “vestiges”. The booklet under review drastically differs from such an understanding of bondage. It does not view it as “a unique system”, rather as a form of employment relationship institutionalising labour vulnerability through debt. “Bonded labour is primarily a social relationship and all those labour relations where vulnerability of the workers is institutionalised through debt could be described as bondage”(6). Further, bondage is “a flexible and adaptive system of labour exploitation”(8).

With the development of capitalist relations in India, bondage has increasingly lost its earlier permanent and generational nature, and has become more and more temporary, seasonal and individualised. The public policy and legal-state machinery that are in place to identify and ‘eradicate’ bondage are unable to record and influence its reproduction in the era of globalisation. Informalisation – contractualisation and casualisation – of the work process that characterises the neoliberal regime of accumulation has tremendously increased labour vulnerability leading to a system of “neo-bondage”, as Jan Breman calls it. Debt and bondage are most rampantly used as mechanisms to mobilise cheap labour from hinterlands and ensure migration (seasonal or long-term) for labour supply in the industries in which India has a comparative advantage. In fact, “with respect to bonded labourers, debt is always a precondition for entering the labour market and in establishing an employer-employee relationship” (80-81).

This report based on extensive studies throughout India maps the institutionalisation of labour vulnerabilities through various forms of debt bondage in contemporary India. With the help of many case studies, it shows how debt posits an element of liability on the part of the worker in the employment relationship, thus reinforcing and consensualising the subjugation of labour under circumstances and conditions on which the worker has a lesser control than otherwise. Advance or debt shapes “the situation of being employed”. It reconfigures an employment relationship as that between the debtor and the creditor, thus reducing the “agency of labour” and alienating the rights and entitlements of workers that characterise the ideal contractual relationship. However, the liabilities in the relationship or general costs of labour are accumulated and bestowed on the worker. The report understands that the role of debt in bondage “is not as an element of an agreement for which there are separate rules and practices of enforcement, but rather… to construct how the claims of workers will be interpreted and treated” (20).

The third chapter of the report assesses the interventions of the state and other agencies to eradicate bondage and rehabilitate bonded labour. It details the provisions of the Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act, 1976 and the subsequent judicial, legislative and executive activism. It enumerates the discrepancies in its implementation. The chapter also examines the intervention of NGOs. A significant conclusion in this regard is that it was the mobilisational and organisational efforts that were most effective in bonded labour eradication.

The report establishes that bonded labour too has contributed in “India shining” and its globalising aspirations. In fact, bonded labour is not just an input in commodity production; rather, workers in the relationship (conditioned by advances or debt) are essentially sellers of their labour power. “They are controlled by the employers in lieu of an advance or delayed payment or non-payment of minimum wages”.(82) Wages in such conditions are squeezed not only through depressed, delayed and deducted payments, but also via uncontrollable interest rates.

It is important to understand Marx’s conception of “wage slavery” here. The usage of this phrase was not at all allegorical or rhetorical, as many tend to believe. It conceptualised the unfreedom or coercion inherent in the dual freedom of labour (from physical compulsion and from the means of production). On one hand, this dual freedom creates an ambience that compels a labourer to sell his/her labour power. On the other hand, once labour power is sold for a period, the labourer has no control over its expenditure for that duration. It should be remembered though the custom is to pay the wages after labour-power is exercised, wages are, in fact, already advanced prior to the labour process not only for the purpose of records, but also as capital required for production – i.e., it constitutes variable capital that is required to buy labour-power and put it to work. In the circuit of capital given below, Money (M) is advanced to buy Means of Production (MP) and Labour Power (LP) before Production (P) can take place.

In fact, “whether money serves as a means of purchase or a means of payment, this does not alter the nature of the exchange of commodities”.(Karl Marx, Capital, Penguin, pp. 279) As “a means of purchase” money is advanced to the sellers of labour power prior to production, while as “a means of payment”, it remains as the worker’s “credit to the capitalist” until production is completed to be paid as wages afterwards. Functionally it hardly makes any difference – “this does not alter the nature of the exchange of commodities”. And both institutionalise labour vulnerabilities in their own way – advance (partial or whole) can easily be transformed into debt, creating liabilities that shape bondage, while wages can be delayed or even lost (when the capitalist goes bankrupt). In fact, the delay in receiving wages is a significant reason for indebtedness among workers. If in Marx’s England debt played a part in tying the worker more to a shop as a consumer, or to sustain the “truck system”, it can instigate other systems, too, to institute labour vulnerabilities. Ultimately the purpose is to increase these vulnerabilities and thus, reproduce the hegemony of capital over labour. The report remarkably succeeds in showing how this is done in various parts of India through debt bondage.

(This review was originally written for Labour File – A bimonthly journal of labour and economic affairs published from New Delhi)

Appendix

A. The process of proletarianisation to which the majority is subjugated, not the number of ‘ideal’ proletarians or wageworkers, defines capitalism. The actualisation of this process – and thus the degrees of proletarianisation or the “dual freedom of labour” differs according to the concrete contexts defined by the needs of capital and class struggle. More technically, this process is a long thread (not necessarily historical) between the formal subsumption to the actual subsumption of labour by capital – its two ends. At various junctures archaic unfreedom, like slavery, which generally characterised pre-capitalism is formally adopted (more aptly, exapted as explained in B) and transformed according to the conjunctural needs of capitalist accumulation. If we don’t recognise this processual aspect of capitalism, we will be lost in the miasma of overproduced forms and appearances in capitalism.

B. Stephen Jay Gould’s conception of exaptation, I believe, is very useful in understanding the dialectical internalisation of “vestiges” by new stages in evolution – both biological and social. Gould and Elisabeth S. Vrba in their 1982 paper define exaptation as (i) “a character, previously shaped by natural selection for a particular function (an adaptation), is coopted for a new use”; and, (ii) “a character whose origin cannot be ascribed to the direct action of natural selection (a nonaptation), is coopted for a current use”. This concept allows us to comprehend the reproduction of “vestiges” as a process internal to the new stage in development, not as something hindering the ‘complete’ realisation of the new stage.

C. The “purist” idea that “vestiges” obstruct (not shape or contextualise) capitalist development has for a long time informed the theory and practice of Marxism in the so-called third world countries – engaging the revolutionaries in the fruitless exercise of fighting the “vestiges” before taking on the basic system, thus investing their revolutionary vigour in the reformist project of the capitalist development. It is interesting to note that this is not only true about the “Leninists” and “Maoists”, as some “anti-Leninists” allege. Many anti-Leninists and anti-Maoists present more vehement denial of the feasibility of any socialist project in “backward” countries. Their conceptualistion of revolution not only goes against the thesis of “revolution in permanence” – “the downfall of all the privileged classes, and the subjection of these classes to the dictatorship of the proletariat by maintaining the revolution in permanence until the realisation of Communism, which is the final form of organisation of human society” – but is also an unconscious reinforcement of the notion of “socialism in one country”, which they profess to hate.

Fascism and Liberal Democracy

Pothik Ghosh

There can be nothing more precarious in the life of a liberal-democracy than the evacuation of politics from law. India currently faces precisely such a crisis, evident in the alleged emergence of Hindutva terror, its insidious denial by mainstream ‘social’ and political outfits of the Hindu Right and, ironically, even the terms in which the secularist camp has sought to counter their propaganda. It is, in fact, the liberal-secular aspect of the problem that is, at once, most interesting and disturbing.

A sizeable section of Indian liberals has, in ascribing double standard to the sangh parivar that has been maligning the Maharashtra anti-terrorism squad’s investigation into the September 29 Malegaon blasts, unwittingly come to share the political-ideological assumptions of Hindutva. Sangh parivar outfits, after having viciously opposed all attempts to call into question the fairness and neutrality of police-investigative procedures into acts of what they call “jehadi terror”, have suddenly done a U-turn to accuse the Maharashtra ATS of being politically pliable and its line of probe into the Malegaon explosions ideologically compromised. Even the BJP has, as is its equivocal wont, carefully allowed only some of its senior leaders to lend their voices to this pernicious cultural-nationalist chorus.

Yet, accusing Hindutva groups of hypocrisy and double standard would close more democratic doors than open them. Such accusation may or may not help the anti-BJP forces score electoral brownie points now. But they would certainly discredit, in advance, all criticism and questioning of state institutions for all times to come. To get caught in debates about the desirablity of interrogating and criticising state institutions is to miss the point.

What matters is whether critical interrogation of state instrumentalities, or the criticism of such criticism, has been prompted by the political desire to render the state and its institutions accountable to a people who embody the values of our Constitution. That would be democracy. The politics of Hindutva, which seeks to make state institutions amenable to the will of a mass at odds with the constitutional principles of liberalism, is majoritarianism. And yet in the absence of a politics that would enable people to make that distinction, democracy and majoritarianism are easily conflated. Sangh parivar organisations have accomplished precisely that with great success.

In such circumstances, direct organisational links between the Malegaon accused and the sangh parivar, even if they do exist, are of little consequence. What is both important and indisputable is their ideological kinship. That, more than any organisational tie, is a characteristic feature of fascism.

Fascism cannot, however, be effectively battled as long as its opponents remain unaware of the gaps in the legalistic discourse and practice of liberal democracy. It is in those fissures that the pestilence of fascism, irrespective of whether it takes the form of Islamism or Hindutva, silently breeds. That said, it would be ideologically troublesome and politically perilous for us here in India to tar the two forms of fascism – Hindutva and Islamism – with the same brush. If anything, such an equation would only reinforce the problematic legal, anti-political praxis of liberal democracy.

We need to distinguish one from the other, even at the risk of appearing undesirably divisive. For, in the long run, more harm than good would be done if this difference is obscured now for some tenuous gains on the Hindu-Muslim brotherhood front. The point of this comparison is not to legitimise the idea of ‘lesser evil’. The point is to recognise the difference in political structures and processes constitutive of each of those strains of terror, if only to come up with a composite solution to the larger problem of civic violence of which both Islamism and Hindutva have become indivisible halves. There is absolutely no doubt that both the Islamists and the footsoldiers of Hindutva seek to close the liberal space through their terroristic campaigns, both covert and overt. But what is more germane is that while the former seeks to subvert liberal democracy by challenging it from the vantage point of opposition and resistance, the latter strives towards the same goal by using the language of liberal democracy and manipulating its institutions.

The recognition of this difference in methods is crucial because it serves to illuminate a rather intractable problem posed by demographics that liberal democracy cannot discern, leave alone resolve, as long as it posits itself in legal-ethical terms. The right to life of a citizen – the foundational liberty on which the edifice of liberal democracy stands – has implicit in its conception the idea of protecting a particular form of material and cultural life from elements that endanger it. The legal-ethical paradigm of liberal democracy entirely precludes the political-agnostic approach, which historicises the the normative liberal-democratic idea of citizen and his eligibility of rights as an abstraction of a certain (insurgent bourgeois) moment of transformative politics seeking real human autonomy. Such historicised engagement with liberal democracy would leave us with no choice but to seek to break with its ethical-legal framework if only to remain true to its impulse (read logic) of continuously seeking concrete human autonomy. The absence of such a reading – which is the default position to which the ethical-legal paradigm of liberal democracy inevitably obtains to – ends up upholding and defending the sovereignty of a certain form of life that is created solely by the majority community and accessed either only by its members or those among others who accept the ideological hegemony of such a qualified form of life, which constitutes the biopolitical horizon of the liberal-democratic polity. All others become, on this terrain of biopolitics, bearers of a form of bare life – as opposed and inferior to the qualified life form – whose sovereignty a liberal democratic state is not only not obliged to defend but is actually also tasked to hold at bay through repression because it threatens the sovereignty of the life of the citizen.

In such circumstances, a citizen eligible for his rights is one who enjoys the entitlements that enables him to the qualified form of cultural and material life, which comes to characterise the national mainstream. Those who cannot, or do not, access such entitlements are obviously not eligible to be rightful citizens. The paradox is that such biopolitical entitlements can be accessed by those who do not have it by invoking rights, even as those rights are denied to them precisely because they do not have the entitlements to that would qualify them as citizens. This problem cannot, clearly, be resolved within the ethical-legal and status quoist paradigm that liberal democracy posits but only through a politics that seeks to break/reconfigure/redistribute the status quo of entitlements by replacing legislation with a political movement of socio-economic transformation.

The absence of such a political imaginary – of which the hegemonic establishment of the ethical-legal discourse of liberal democracy is the other dialectical half – virtually legitimises majoritarianism, even as it frames the opposition of social groups either excluded or repressed in that status quo in some kind of minoritarian idiom, which is simultaneously rendered illegitimate. That is the reason why fascism, when it is manifest through Hindutva in our country, is seen by a whole clutch of committed liberal democrats through a prism tinged with partial, if not total, acceptability. The same bunch, not surprisingly, displays no such ambivalence while characterising Islamist fascism as the greatest evil of our times. There is a desperate need for a more agnostic (read political) approach to liberal democracy. Nothing short of that would help us transcend our fascist status quo and the liberal democratic discourse that makes this enormity possible.

(An abridged version of the article was published in The Economic Times)

Some Comments on Partha Chatterjee’s theoretical framework

Political Economy of Contemporary India

Dipankar Basu and Debarshi Das

Sifting through the divergent viewpoints thrown up by attempts to make sense of the recent political history of West Bengal, one is led to the conclusion that the tumultuous events have taken many, if not most, by surprise. With the benefit of hindsight one can probably say this: a combination of an insensitive state power, an arrogant ruling party, lapping-it-up corporate interests, and cheerleaders-of-corporate-sector-doubling-up-as-media orchestrated a veritable assault – a perfect storm. Yet the peasantry, initially without the guiding hand of a political party – indeed at times against the writ of the party – fought on. Through this episode Indian political economy seems to have stumbled upon the peasantry while it was looking for a short-cut to economic growth through SEZs.

At the level of political practice this serendipity demonstrates lack of an organic link between the representatives of people and those they claim to represent. The Trinamul Congress, whose manoeuvrings range from rightist alliances at worst to unprincipled populism at best, was slow to react; but it learnt the ropes eventually. A nagging doubt remains though, as to whether it would not, at the end of the day, appropriate the movement and sell it off to the highest bidder. The charge is of course more serious against the communist parties. If confusion of politics was not bad enough, the largest party of the state failed to gauge the pulse of the people whose land it was taking. The Congress Party has perhaps been the most rudderless of the lot – veering towards resistance at one moment, getting pulled back by the central leadership at the very next.

At the level of theorisation too, things are in a flux. A case in point is noted political scientist Partha Chatterjee’s article in Economic and Political Weekly[1], which tries to present a novel reading of contemporary Indian reality and a new framework to comprehend it with. We shall present his position briefly and then examine it critically in our own attempt to throw some light on contemporary Indian reality.

Partha Chatterjee’s Analysis

Partha Chatterjee (PC henceforth), by his own admission, used to perceive the Indian peasantry as being endowed with a change-resisting character. External agencies such as the state or market forces were sought to be barricaded away, often successfully. But that has changed over the last twenty five years. Liberalisation of the economy, it’s incorporation into networks of the global flow of goods, services and capital, and more recently events like Singur, Nandigram, Kalinganagar, etc. have compelled PC, and Kalyan Sanyal, whose book he often refers to, to reconsider such a position.

Reconsideration of the earlier position leads him to discover that the state was not that external to rural society after all; that the rural economy has come fully under the sway of capital, and that the rural poor do leave villages for cities due to social, and economic compulsions [2]. These new trends, according to PC, have emerged and consolidated themselves over the last three decades. Another concomitant and noteworthy development is that market forces seem to have gained phenomenal power. The balance of state power between corporate capital and the landed elite has decidedly tilted in favour of the former. The managerial-bureaucratic class, i.e, the urban middle class, has also aligned itself with the interests of big capital. Straddling all these changes and in a sense providing an overarching theme of current economic reality in India is the process of primitive accumulation of capital.

Sanyal however avers, and PC concurs, that the primitive accumulation of capital that is underway in India today is very different from the classical variety of the same process. One of the major differences, according to PC, is that the dispossessed, separated from the means of production, can no longer find gainful employment in industry due to limitations of present day capital-intensive technology [3]. This is bad news for the ruling dispensation as social unrest may break out. Old tactics of armed repression is ruled out, because the globally accepted norm is to provide succor to the victims of primitive accumulation and not shoot them down. Compulsions of electoral democracy, which demands that even voters bereft of livelihood be heard, is an additional constraint. Thus, caught between the pressures of the global discourse on development and the demands of electoral democracy, the State adopts the role of transferring resources from the accumulating economy of corporate capital to the dispossessed masses, thereby reversing the effects of primitive accumulation.

We are therefore left with a curious situation. Corporate capital is dispossessing millions through primitive accumulation, but the dispossessed are neither getting absorbed into industry nor getting socially transformed, as they were supposed to, through proletarianisation. This floating mass of labour, this enormous but shifting population of potential workers have instead become a constituent of what PC calls “political society”. Owners of small capital – PC prefers the term non-corporate capital – along with small and marginal peasants, artisans, and small producers are important constituents of political society.

But political society, according to PC, is different from civil society; corporate capital hegemonises the urban middle class which forms civil society. Its support for pro-capital policies is unstinting. Demand for civil and democratic rights define its political agenda. Political society, on the other hand, is hardly a constitutionally valid entity. Its constituents do not enjoy the rights due to citizens; hence they do not qualify for membership of civil society. The economic precariousness of political society, accentuated by primitive accumulation, forces it to use various ploys to negotiate with the State. For the State, on the other hand, electoral compulsions of representative democracy is a binding constraint. Thus the State often looks the other way when negotiations with political society violates established civil society rules (urban squatters, and street vendors are a case in point, as PC mentions). But in the agrarian economy the degree of political consolidation is lower; therefore dependence on the hand-outs of the State is more pronounced. This does not however imply, PC mentions, that they are incapable of rallying on emotive issues and thereby nullifying the government’s machinations to divide and break. It is in the dynamic interaction between the civil and political society – which often coincide with corporate and non-corporate capital for PC – and in the success of the State in holding the two together through measures of “governmentality” that PC identifies the fate of the present political regime.

Some Comments

There are many points which are commendable about the article: acute observations, theoretical insights, incisive analysis and a crisp clear prose. For instance, some of the important observations worth highlighting and thinking about are: landed elite losing ground vis-à-vis the bourgeoisie, the breath-taking ease with which the urban middle class traded Nehruvian consensus for the Washington consensus, the accompanying depoliticization, and the rising friction between this class and the poor etc. These observations underline the sharp analytical prowess of one of the foremost social scientists of the country. But there are surprises and disappointments too and to these we now turn.

The biggest problem with PC’s analysis, we feel, is the questionable theoretical framework that he works in, a framework that he has borrowed from Kalyan Sanyal (KS henceforth). KS starts his analysis by pointing out that what is going on in contemporary India can be fruitfully understood as the primary (or primitive) accumulation of capital, in the sense in which Marx used that term in Volume 1 of Capital. We fully agree with him here; in fact one of us had argued along those lines some time ago [4]. The defining feature of the process of primary capital accumulation – forcible separation of primary producers from the means of production – is difficult to miss in developments in contemporary India. KS notes that all previous attempts at theorizing primary capital accumulation have been embedded in what he calls a narrative of transition. Thus, primary capital accumulation has always been seen, according to KS, as marking a transition, a transition from one mode of production to another, either a transition from feudalism to capitalism, or “from pre-capitalist backwardness to socialist modernity.” But “under present conditions of postcolonial development within a globalised economy, the narrative of transition is no longer valid”; that is “although capitalist growth in a postcolonial society such as India is inevitably accompanied by the primitive accumulation of capital, the social changes that are brought about cannot be understood as a transition.” And why is that so? This is because it is no longer acceptable, or so KS believes, that people dispossessed and displaced due to primitive accumulation should be left with no means of subsistence. And what makes the destitution and poverty of the people displaced by primary accumulation unacceptable? The current international context marked by the dominance of the discourse of development and human rights.

Alongside the process of primary accumulation, therefore, KS discovers a parallel and related process: intervention of the State to reverse the effects of primitive accumulation. Government agencies, in other words, step in to create conditions for ensuring the “basic means of livelihood” to those who have been dispossessed and displaced by the process of primary accumulation of capital. Thus there is, according to KS, two processes going on in parallel, “primitive accumulation” and a “process of the reversal of the effects of primitive accumulation.” It is the conjunction of these two parallel processes, according to KS, that invalidates the narrative of transition associated with the primary accumulation of capital.

The implication of this assertion, the assertion that the primary accumulation of capital can no longer be understood in terms of a narrative of transition, is stupendous. It means that current political economic processes underway in India will continue indefinitely; historical change, for KS, seems to have been stalled. Since current day reality cannot be understood as a process of transition, this would then seem to imply that Indian reality will remain unchanged in its essentials for a long time to come, if not forever. In more concrete terms, this will mean the presence of the huge mass of working people parked in the no man’s land between agriculture and industry for an indefinite amount of time, a population that has been simultaneously dispossessed by the primary accumulation of capital and provided an alternative “means of livelihood” by the postcolonial State.

As a description of contemporary Indian reality, this account probably has some intuitive appeal. After all it can hardly be denied that one of the most important characteristics of contemporary India is the huge population of what economists have called “surplus labour”: the huge population of working people who find stable, well-paying employment neither in agriculture nor in industry nor in services. Though KS’s analysis apparently attempts to understand this phenomenon of “surplus labour”, by all accounts the defining characteristic of contemporary Indian reality, it is, we believe, seriously flawed.

First: the Indian economy has been characterized by surplus labour for the past two centuries, it is not a new phenomenon; the primitive accumulation of capital was initiated under the long shadow of colonialism and ever since that time dispossession has been going on without commensurate absorption of the displaced labour in industry. In that sense the current scenario has a historical dimension that KS, and thereby PC, completely misses when he (a) locates the beginnings of this process somewhere in the recent past, and (b) identifies the supposed ameliorative interventions of the State in reversing the effects of primary accumulation in the current conjuncture as one of the crucial factors to reckon with.

To be sure, PC, identifies three factors that are different today from the time when Western Europe underwent primary accumulation of capital. First, there were opportunities for international migration of the surplus labour that are totally absent today; second, the technology of the early industrial period was far less capital intensive than current technology and hence had the capacity to absorb far more of the surplus agricultural labour than is possible today; third, the State did not intervene in Western Europe to reverse the effects of primary accumulation as it is doing today in India. Though the first two factors were present in Western Europe and contributed to mitigating the problem of surplus labour, they are not necessary. Japan and the Soviet Union had taken care of primary accumulation, and had industrialized, without having to export surplus labour to its colonies and using much more capital intensive technology that was used during the industrial revolution in Western Europe; South Korea had taken care of primary capital accumulation, and had industrialized, with much more capital intensive technology than Britain had used during its own industrialization and without the assistance of international outmigration of its surplus labour. Therefore, the absence of opportunities for international migration and the use of technologies with relatively higher capital intensity cannot explain the absence of industrialization and the continued existence of surplus labour in India. The answer lies somewhere else, in the domain of capital accumulation. In a dynamic context, the rate of absorption of labour, i.e., the growth rate of the demand for labour, depends on the rate of accumulation of industrial capital. Neither the lack of international migration, nor the increasing capital intensity of technology nor the ameliorative interventions of the State can explain the burgeoning ranks of surplus labour; it is the absence of a sufficiently rapid rate of growth of industrial capital in India that is responsible for the continued existence of surplus labour. This crucial factors is totally missing in KS’s and PC’s analysis

The primacy of capital accumulation becomes obvious once we look back at history and realize that dispossession without proletarianization is not a novel phenomenon. One just needs to recall that one of the principal issues raised by the Mode of Production Debate [5] was why India did not make the transition to capitalism despite being sucked into the global network of trade and commerce with the onset of colonialism. The answer, of course, is now well known. As colonial incursion willfully destroyed the socio-economic fabric of the country, peasants were evicted and deindustrialization, facilitated by the trade policy of the colonial State, exacerbated the pressure on land. But the economic surplus which was being generated in the process was largely siphoned off to the metropolis. Thus, in the colony, processes leading up to the formation of productive capital were conspicuous by their absence. Petty producers who were getting alienated from the means of production were joining the ranks of paupers, not those of the working class. Without a strong capital accumulation process, the excess labour could not be absorbed into profitable industrial activities; that is the historical basis of “surplus labour” in the Indian economy. One may refer to the mode of production in India using any term one wishes, as pre-capitalist, or semi-feudal, or semi-capitalist, or postcolonial, or something else, but the main point remains beyond dispute: absence of the growth of industrial capital and a concomitant growth of the industrial working class.

Somewhat related to this point about “dispossession without proletarianization” is the implicit assumption in PC’s analysis that peasant society had been stuck in splendid isolation till about the beginning of the era of liberalization; this is one of our major points of criticism of PC’s analysis that we wish our readers to ponder. The trend of viewing the peasantry in this manner, especially the middle peasants who are not very much dependent on the labour market for selling or buying labour, owes a great deal to the work of the Russian economist Chayanov [6]. But the putative efficiency of the peasantry sits oddly with the massive and recurrent famines India underwent as colonial rule tethered the country to global commodity markets. This position about the supposed insularity of the peasantry seems even more unconvincing when one recalls the state’s successful promotion of Green Revolution in north and northwest India starting in the mid-sixties. Nor does it seem consistent with Operation Barga in West Bengal, another orchestration of political parties and the state machinery, which was leaving a deep impact on rural Bengal right at the time when Subaltern Studies was undergoing its genesis.

To move on to another major problem in PC’s theoretical framework recall that one of the crucial links in PC’s chain of argument relates to the supposed interventions of the State in reversing the effects of primary accumulation; this, to our mind, is the weakest link in the whole chain of arguments that PC offers in his paper; there are both theoretical and empirical problems with this argument.

First:

PC, and many other scholars (including KS), we feel, seem to have misunderstood the notion of primary accumulation of capital. Primary accumulation of capital, as understood by Marx (in Volume 1 of Capital), is the forced separation of producers from the means of production. Whether this “free”, evicted (peasant) labour gets absorbed in industrial activity is a different question, it is not part of the process of primary accumulation. It depends on the pace of capital accumulation, as we have already pointed out. So, the assertion – implicit in PC’s analysis – that the “classical” pattern of primary accumulation led to industrial development is false. Primary accumulation led to the creation of a class of “free” labourers, period. What led to the industrial revolution and the rapid growth in the demand for labour and the strengthening of capitalism and thereby the absorption of surplus labour, was the rapid pace of capital accumulation and technical progress. Thus, distinguishing between the “classical” pattern of primary accumulation in Europe and the present pattern of primary accumulation in India does not seem be analytically useful.

Second:

PC’s whole analysis seems to be curiously oblivious of the neoliberal turn in the global economy, a fact that is amply reflected in policy changes in India too; we feel this is one of the biggest lacunae in PC’s analytical framework. The fact that radical scholars and activists have spent so much time and effort studying neoliberalism, understanding its genesis, structure and functioning must surely be known to a scholar of the stature of PC; the fact that he has ignored this vast scholarship, experience and political practice and has instead advanced the thesis of ameliorative state intervention is very significant and points towards a deep problem in his theoretical framework. After all, one of the defining characteristics of the State under neoliberalism is its gradual retreat from the provision of public goods and social services, especially those services that might benefit the poor and dispossessed. In the face of this well-known and well-documented fact, when PC asserts that the State has stepped in to do exactly the opposite, i.e., reverse the deleterious consequences of primary accumulation, one is more than surprised, one is appalled. Let us present some empirical evidence to dispel the illusion, if any, of the lately humane State, responsive to the needs of the poor, bowing before the pressure of the international discourse on poverty alleviation.

a. Distribution of subsidised food through ration shops is an old institution – not a device to make the pain of the poor bearable in the era of neoliberalism. During the last couple of decades, the decades of neoliberalism, the universal public distribution system (PDS) has been systematically dismantled; that is the hallmark of post-liberalisation India, not the strengthening of the PDS and increasing its reach. Priority sector lending, another device built by the Nehruvian state to help farming and related activities, is in a sorry state. In the last fifteen year 4,750 rural bank branches have been closed down: at the rate of one rural bank branch each day. During the year 2006 one branch was shutting down every six hours! [7]

b. The tale of microcredit institutions, an example of what PC considers the States intervention to reverse the effects of primitive accumulation, doing the job of offering palliatives has been questioned by many. The interest rates charged by micro credit institutions are often almost usurious. The motivation to harvest the middle ground between low interest rates of public sector banks (which are vanishing) and the exorbitantly high ones of village mahajans seems to be behind the coming together of corporate banks and NGOs in the micro credit venture. This serves two purposes. One, banks earn as much as 25% return, much higher than the organised sector return,[8] with an excellent repayment rate; a lucrative arbitrage channel thus opens up. Two, this credit model is then peddled as people-oriented, and opposed to a bureaucratic public sector model. This is then used to justify withdrawal of the state from its basic responsibilities towards socially and economically vulnerable sections of the population. That someone as perceptive as PC has fallen for the micro credit argument signals that the powers that be have been largely successful.

c. Contrary to the claim of the article, “social sector expenditure” has nosedived over the past few years. In 1996, rural development expenditure as a proportion of net domestic product was 2.6%. During the pre-liberalisation seventh plan (1985 to 1989) the figure was much higher at 4% [9]. From the mid 1980s to 2000-01 public development expenditure as a percentage of the GDP fell from 16% to 6%. The effects have of course been disastrous, especially in the farming sector where strong crowding-in effects of public investment is a well known fact. The growth rate of all crops fell from 3.8% in the 1980s to 1.8% in the 1990s, while total agricultural investment expenditure as percentage of the GDP fell from 1.6% to 1.3% [10]. Using a constant calorie norm of 2200 calorie per day, head count poverty ratio has risen from 56.4% to 69.5% between 1973-74 and 2004-05.

d. Guaranteed public work for the rural poor was attempted to be scuttled from the very top, i.e., by the officials of the State at the very highest levels. Social democratic proclivities of official communist parties, rather than the tactical calculations of the bourgeoisie, saw it through to some extent. To this day the corporate media loses no opportunity in tarnishing the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act [10] as useless, wasteful and distortionary.

In short, any substantial evidence of the State taking steps to make primitive accumulation bearable, to reverse its effects by providing alternative means of livelihood to the dispossessed population, seems to be totally missing. PC seems to be oblivious of the fact that the phase of neoliberalism is characterised precisely by the opposite: withdrawal of the state from the economy and social sectors, not its intervention in favour of the dispossessed.

Third:

The analytical handle of political society did not seem to have served any great purpose. What was meant by this term was essentially what has been called the unorganised sector, the sector of the economy comprising of petty agricultural producers, tenants, village artisans, street vendors, small scale manufacturers, etc. Admittedly they are less equal than the rest but that is a derivative of their economic position in the country rather than being a defining feature of its own. Since this “unorganized” sector employs nearly 92% of the Indian work force, a close scrutiny of its structure and dynamics is long overdue. But did coining a new term serve any goal? Not one that we can see. In the bargain PC, of course, seems to have missed two crucial points.

a. Labour has gone out of the discourse and PC’s analysis seems to endorse this trend. Recall that PC uses the term “non-corporate capital” for an economic representation of political society. Reading PC’s descriptions of it, one cannot help suggesting that “labour” rather than “capital” should have been emphasized. After all nearly 40% of the agrarian population are landless labourers [12]; of the landowners, about 86% come under the category of small and marginal farmers, and they supplement income from land with labour income. Simple back-of-the-envelope calculations tell us that at least 55% of the country’s population could be counted within political society – this is the contribution of agricultural sector alone. To get an idea of the size of political society one needs to add the fast increasing chunk of casual labourers in manufacturing and services, petty manufacturers, and self-employed groups of the service sector. Their income source, as we have noted, owes more to labour than to capital. Hence the term “non-corporate capital” seems inappropriate, both as a matter of description and analysis.

In this context one needs to understand what PC mentions about the resistance to forcible acquisition of land. When land was being taken away, some of the villagers did not participate in agitations while some of them resisted fiercely. But PC forgets to examine who did what. Closer examination of these struggles reveal that peasants with little or no land at all – sharecroppers, farm labourers – were the ones who fought on [13], [14]. This perhaps illustrates that using a class-neutral term may not be very illuminating for socio-political analysis.

b. While describing maneuvers of political society in negotiations with the neoliberal state PC uses illustrations of urban labour: squatters, hawkers, etc. This leads him to conclude that demands of political society mostly fall outside the domain of the legally permitted. But what about demands such as payment of minimum wage, subsidised inputs and credit, support price for crops, right to livelihood, right over resources like forest produce, water? Surely these demands, on which political society has plenty of stakes, are entirely legal. One suspects that the urban bias in PC’s analysis and illustrations has pushed the article to dubious conclusions.

Conclusion:

As landholdings have undergone fragmentation and aspirations for urban comforts have soared, agriculture has ceased to be the site of intense class conflict. For the foreseeable future the big question of political economy will be to understand how corporate capital, with hegemony over the state and civil society, negotiates with the clingers-on of a moribund peasant society. Aside from the shortcomings of PC’s analysis, which we have critically examined, resistance at Singur, Nandigram, Kalinganagar perhaps signals that all is not yet over with the agrarian question. Managing political society through governmentality is hardly an answer. Land remains a vital issue on which livelihoods, and therefore lives, are staked. There are no shortcuts – employments would have to be found for the evicted if corporate capital has to reproduce itself without hitch. Moreover, electoral compulsions of representative democracy need not be met through resource transfer as PC has suggested. In a polity where parties deliver anti-neoliberal rhetoric before elections and do precious little once in power [15], actual transfer of resources is neither necessary nor efficient.

Notes and references:

1. Partha Chatterjee (2008): “Democracy and Economic Transformation in India”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 43 No. 16 April 19 – April 25.

2. PC also hypothesises that the rural poor do not face an exploiter in the village any longer; or that since taxes on land or produce are insignificant, the state is not an extracting agent of the peasantry. Both these claims are questionable, but we shall let them pass.

3. Kalyan Sanyal (2008) “Amader Gorib Oder Gorib” (Bengali), Anandabazar Patrika, May 20.

4. See http://radicalnotes.com/2007/02/07/neoliberalism-and-primitive-accumulation-in-india/

5. Utsa Patnaik (1990) Agrarian Relations and Accumulation: The ‘Mode of Production’ Debate in India, (edited) Sameeksha Trust and Oxford University Press, Bombay.

6. Utsa Patnaik (1979) “Neo-populism and Marxism: The Chayanovian View of the Agrarian Question and its Fundamental Fallacy”, Journal of Peasant Studies, Vol. 6, No. 4, reprinted in The Long Transition, Tulika, New Delhi, 1999 provides a detailed criticism.

7. Sainath (2008) “4,750 rural bank branches closed down in 15 years”, The Hindu, March 28.

8. Mritiunjoy Mohanty (2006) “Microcredit, NGOs and poverty alleviation”, The Hindu, Nov 15.

9. Utsa Patnaik (2008) “Neoliberal Roots”, Frontline, Vol. 25, Issue 06, March 15-28.

10. Utsa Patnaik (2003) “Food Stocks and Hunger: The Causes of Agrarian Distress”, Social Scientist, Vol. 31, No. 7/8, 15-41.

11. Jean Drèze (2008) “Employment guarantee: beyond propaganda”, The Hindu, Jan 11, 2008.

12. There is ambiguity whether PC categorises landless labourers under political society or ‘marginal groups’. He mentions marginal groups are low caste or tribal people. By this count the landless are mostly marginal. But then he mentions marginals do not participate in agriculture; they are dependent of forest produce or pastoral activities. Going by the second stronger criterion we shall include the landless in political society.

13. Parthasarathi Banerjee (2006) “West Bengal: Land Acquisition and Peasant Resistance at Singur”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 41, No. 46, November 18 – November 24.

14. Tanika Sarkar (2007) “Celebrate the Resistance”, Hardnews, April.

15. K C Suri (2004) “Democracy, Economic Reforms and Election Results in India”, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. 39, No. 51, December 18 – December 24.

Courtesy:Sanhati

Statement on the NHRC report on Salwa Judum

Issued by Campaign for Peace and Justice in Chhattisgarh

Since 2005 the Chhattisgarh government has claimed that the Salwa Judum is a “peaceful people’s movement”, that “the villagers are never forced to join the camps”. They claimed that no minors were appointed as SPOs. It also resisted any independent enquiry, saying “There is no failure on part of state of Chhattisgarh and therefore independent investigation is uncalled for and unwarranted.” The NHRC investigation into Salwa Judum which was carried out on the orders of the Supreme Court found that this claim by the Chhattisgarh government regarding Salwa Judum was patently false. They found prima facie evidence of large scale burning of villages, large numbers of missing people, the fact that many people had been forced into camps against their will (though most they claim have subsequently returned), and the appointment of minors as SPOs in the initial stages at least. Some Nelasnar camp residents, they note, “left the village due to atrocities committed by the Naga police.” This one example is clearly the proverbial tip of the iceberg. The NHRC investigation revealed that SPOs have been involved in “certain incidents of atrocities against the tribals” and in some instances (e.g Matwada camp killings), the security forces and SPOs seemed to be prima-facie responsible for extra judicial killings. They have also not ruled out the possibility that, as in the Matwada case, other FIRs registered could be false.

However, given the powers and responsibility of the NHRC, it has manifestly failed to bring out the full truth of what is happening in Dantewada district, Chhattisgarh. The National Human Rights Commission is a statutory body, mandated to be an autonomous overseer of human rights across the country. The current report is unfortunately a negation of this responsibility.

There are inherent infirmities in the present report (i) the composition of the team which consisted solely of police, (ii) the process of public enquiry, which involved SPOs and Salwa Judum activists acting as translators, coupled with intimidation of witnesses (iii) the manner in which conclusions have been arrived at by the NHRC’s investigating team. It is these which has led the NHRC investigation team to downplay its own findings on the atrocities committed by the SPOs and Salwa Judum activists and concentrate on the violence of the Naxalites. Curiously despite being so focused on the Naxalites, the report nowhere mentions that the state is already seized of this problem, having sent more than ten battalions of paramilitaries to the district, and spent crores of rupees on battling Naxalism. It did not need an investigation by the NHRC to uncover the Naxalite ‘problem’.

1. Composition of the team and method of enquiry: The investigation team comprised solely of police officers. It did not have any representative of the local tribal communities or even any of the NGOs associated with the NHRC who had asked to be associated with it. The team went to various Salwa Judum camps and villages in an armed convoy which included Salwa Judum leaders and members, Special Police Officers (SPOs) and the Superintendent Police of Dantewada. Concerns that the arrival of a convoy of anti-mine tanks, preceded by road clearing exercises, would do little to instill confidence in villagers who were already terrified by the violence of the Salwa Judum and security forces, had earlier been raised with the NHRC and have been fully borne out by the findings of the investigating team itself. The NHRC report itself acknowledges at least two instances, in Pusbaka and Chikurubatti villages, where the villagers ran away seeing the police/CRPF accompanying the team.

2. Flawed Investigation – insufficient and biased acceptance of evidence:
It is not just the petitioners who have been raising the issue of human rights violations by Salwa Judum and security forced in Dantewada and Bijapur. Several independent civil and democratic rights groups have been consistently raising questions about the manner in which the government has armed civilians and the impunity with which the militarized nexus of Salwa Judum, Police, SPOs and the CRPF has unleashed violence on the local population. This is also probably the only instance where several government agencies, including the Planning Commission, the Administrative Reforms Commission, National Commission for Women and the National Commission for Protection of Child Rights, have also condemned the counter-insurgency strategy employed by the government. The NCPCR report based on a fact-finding by Prof. Shanta Sinha, Mr. JM Lyngdoh (former CEC) and Mr Venkat Reddy, based on testimonies of at least 35 victims in Cherla, noted that “many people shared accounts of family members being killed and women raped by the Salwa Judum” and again, based on a public hearing in Kirandul, “There were numerous accounts of family members being killed for resisting the Salwa Judum”. The NHRC has unfortunately chosen to ignore all such reports.

Though NHRC report claims to reach several conclusions, it summarily rejects several of the complaints in the petition by saying that they have “not been substantiated”, based either on insufficient evidence or a specious acceptance of the police version. Some instances are:

i) The NHRC has made registration of FIRs as the bench mark of ascertaining whether an incident of violence took place or not. The NHRC seems to have charily ignored the fact that in cases where state agencies are responsible for human rights violations people would be unable to lodge FIRs for fear of their life or that false FIRs may have been lodged by the police themselves falsely implicating others. This even though the report itself admits at least one instance where a villager was killed by Salwa Judum activists no FIR has been registered.

ii) The report uncritically accepts the police version of the cases and makes that the basis for “substantiation” or otherwise. This even as the report itself has had to admit at least one instance- in the Matwada case which was highlighted due to the efforts of local groups, that false FIR has been filed by the police blaming Naxals for an incident which was prima facie committed by Salwa Judum and security.

iii) In at least two cases, the NHRC visited the wrong village – of the same name but in a different thana. In the case of Polampalli in Usur thana, which was used as a test case to say that rape was not substantiated, despite the correct details being mentioned in the petition, the NHRC team visited Polampalli in Dornapal thana.

iv) The NHRC team has ignored the evidence provided by independent journalists and others which contradicted the police version and accepted the police version at face value. In the Santoshpur case for instance, at least 4 independent journalists have separately and one after another confirmed to the killing of Kodiya Bojja by SPOs, based on interviews with next of kin soon after incident. NHRC however uncritically accepts police version that he was killed by Naxalites.

v) Most strikingly, all testimonies given by IDPs in Andhra Pradesh regarding killings of their relatives by Salwa Judum and SPOs have been discarded, while all testimonies given by camp residents and villagers regarding killing by Naxalites has been accepted at face value. The AP testimonies have been ignored even when they are corroborated by the evidence of burnt and abandoned villages (e.g. Kottacheru, Lingagiri etc.)

3. Several misleading conclusions: It is not clear how NHRC came to its conclusion that no village was being discriminated against for not joining Salwa Judum camps when it notes that rations are available only in camp and that Salwa Judum is identified with the camps, and that “the only government agency active in the area is the police”. The National Commission for the Protection of Child Rights had noted in its fact-finding report, that ‘A big problem is that schools and Anganwadi teachers have been shifted from the villages to the camps leading to a concentration of service-providers in camps and no services available to those who are still living in villages.’

4. The NHRC avers to some instances where security forces and SPOs seem to be prima facie responsible for extra judicial killings. It states that it came across certain cases in which the “excesses” have been committed by ‘public servants’ and where the State has proceeded against those “who failed to operate within the four corners of the law”.

However it does not give details of any such instances. Till date, the Dantewada and Bijapur district administrations, the Chhattisgarh Police and the Chhattisgarh Government have not accepted or made public the cases where Police Officers, Special Police Officers or CRPF personnel in Dantewada and Bijapur have been proceeded against for violation of law.

5. Justifies Vigilantism: Most worrying however is the manner in which the NHRC report openly justifies Salwa Judum on the grounds that people cannot be denied the right to defend themselves against the atrocities perpetrated by Naxalites thus condoning civil vigilantism and arming one section of the society against the other, which in fact represents abdication of the State itself. Justice Rajendra Babu, Chairperson, NHRC had said in one interview, “The NHRC has not given a clean chit to Salwa Judum. What we said in our report to the Supreme Court was that the problems afflicting Chhattisgarh are not law and order problems but socio-economic ones.” Burning villages, and extra-judicial killings are surely law and order problems. Meanwhile the Raman Singh government which has come under a lot of criticism for its support to Salwa Judum is going all out to publicise this biased report as a vindication of its disastrous strategy.

We hope that the Supreme Court and the wider public sees the biases the report evidently demonstrates. At the same time, even the limited findings by the NHRC are sufficient to indict Salwa Judum and SPOs as an extra-constitutional, vigilante force which must be disbanded forthwith. Those who wish to must be allowed to return home, and all victims, whether of Salwa Judum or Naxalites must be given compensation on an equal footing. A judicial enquiry is essential to establish the scale of victimization and prosecute those who are guilty.