Why Congress is to be blamed

AS THE MONSOONS played hard-to-get all of June and early July, a perverse competitiveness was forced upon those living in the NCR—in Delhi, Gurgaon, Noida and Ghaziabad. Did my area suffer longer hours of power cut today or did my colleague’s? Who had the boasting rights? Who among us broke the record? Was it the 12-hour misery in Ghaziabad or the 14-hour marathon in Gurgaon? On her part Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit blamed citizens for their plight. Just days after power tariffs went up by a substantial 26 per cent, she made it pretty plain that power cuts were unavoidable till the monsoons come. What was more, Delhiites would have to make do with less power, should learn to live with fewer units of electricity. “Naturally it is happening on a large scale,” Dikshit said, “People do not have control over power consumption… they use four to five air conditioners. They will have to change their habits.” How many people, families and households in Delhi use “four to airconditioners simultaneously? The number could not be large. The number of families that use one or two air-conditioners—expected in an upper-middle class household comprising parents, grandparents and children—would probably be larger. Of course, there are families that cannot afford anything more than an air-cooler. Yet they too suffer power cuts. The issue is not about the quantum of air-conditioners. Mrs Dikhsit’s prototypical Delhi family switches on. It is the hypocrisy of the political class. When income and taxation figures from Delhi are announced, there is understandable pride among the same authorities, the same government and the same chief minister, that Delhi residents are among the richest people in India. Business tycoons and arms agents live well in Delhi. Mediapersons and NGO activists live well in Delhi—or better than their peers in other cities. Clerks, drivers and domestic staff live well in Delhi—they earn, spend and save more than they would in other cities. This explains why not just the rich with their “four to five” airconditioners— as per the chief minister’s assessment—but even humble folk, including the cook who cycles home from work or the office peon who takes the long bus ride back from the heart of the city to, say, its eastern fringes, can realistically hope for a television, an air-cooler and, with some thrift and enterprise, even a small or second-hand air-conditioner. This aspiration should not be mocked. It is hard-won achievement, recognition of the individual’s labour as well as the prodigious economic opportunities Delhi gives its residents and its migrants. If this prosperity is a badge of honour for the government to wear and show off, does it not also confer obligations on the very same government? If Delhi is becoming more prosperous, should not its government use the incremental revenue it is earning to make allowance for more power sources—rather than just wait for the monsoons, which all of India does every year anyway and has been doing since before Dikshit became chief minister? The issue here is not just about Delhi. The shortage economy, the failure of public utilities to ensure infrastructure upgrade with rising needs and expectations of citizens across the country—particularly in teeming, overcrowded but severely under-equipped cities—represents not ordinary misgovernance but one of the greatest public-service betrayals of our time. While all parties are guilty of this in some form or the other, the brunt must be borne by the Congress, India’s oldest, largest and longest-ruling party, one that has been in power at the Centre since 2004. There are two reasons why the Congress is to blame far more than anybody else. First, there is a larger conceptual problem. A perverted idea of socialism has been allowed to flourish and, frankly speaking, fester in India. It glorifies poverty and scarcity, worships Daridra Narayan iconography and pointedly looks down upon any ambition for the good life even seeking to de-legitimise it. In this framework, to seek electricity and hope for air-conditioners is not only not justifiable but downright evil. Other countries don’t see it like this. From the American Midwest to the interiors of China, there are several locations with summer temperatures as high as those in India. Yet air-conditioned work-places and commuter networks are facilitated here as a matter of course, not some privilege given to the people by a munificent state. This ensures the worker reaches his factory or office comfortably and not dripping in sweat or broiling from the journey. It means he or she starts work at once without waiting to recover from the extremities of the weather. This enhances individual, corporate and social productivity. Such an assumption is not rocket science. It is not as if merely capitalism and open markets recognise the need and utility of electricity and other systems of politico-economic organisation don’t. One of Lenin’s oft-quoted maxims in the early years of the Soviet Union was: “Communism is socialism plus electricity”. In Delhi, the mantra has been tweaked: ‘Crony capitalism is socialism minus electricity’. No wonder Dikshit feels she can get away with blaming her citizens for their power problems. The second reason the Congress should be pointing fingers at itself is specific to the UPA government. Why is power capacity enhancement at a virtual standstill in the country? Why did a particularly cussed environment minister spend two years shutting down not just coal blocks but entire coal-fields, even as associated power plants—with millions invested in them—came up but were rendered silent and sullen? Was there a direct correlation between that environmental exhibitionism and this summer’s power outages? It’s a question that won’t go away.