Set up commissions to help unravel the real problems

IN A COUNTRY as large and diverse as India, its democratic culture is tested relentlessly. Things are further complicated by the fact that India is in the throes of a structural transition from its post-colonial Licence-Raj culture to its status as a free market ‘breakout nation’, to use Ruchir Sharma’s phrase. The fact that this transition is being attempted even as the global economic recovery continues to remain listless, basically indicates that the country’s democratic ethos is being challenged to its hilt. Over the past month or so, three seemingly unrelated events have occurred in quick succession which would allow me to punctuate the argument of this essay—how in the middle of a cacophonous, jingoistic and often-manipulative narrative shaping India’s democratic culture, there is an urgent need to create a space for truth and reconciliation, demystification and honesty. Without such a space, one fears that the country may continue to stumble from crisis to crisis. To elucidate my concern, I could talk of three events: the first occurred between June 28 and June 29 when an armed encounter took place in Bastar between a group of ‘Naxalites’ and CRPF officers leading to 18 deaths. Early reports stated that the deceased were all Maoist insurgents. As the story unfolded, it came to the fore that the dead may have included civilians some of them barely teenagers. In the weeks that followed, the previously hailed ‘successful counter-insurgency operation’, led by the CRPF in collaboration with the state government, turned into a target of condemnation. To compound matters, a committee report by the Chhattisgarh Congress Committee also alleged that the ‘rebels’ shot did include villagers. In their defence, top CRPF officers went on to describe how murky things really were on the ground. Without in any way discounting the difficulties of policing Left-wing extremism, especially of the sort which has been growing in the triumvirate states of Orissa, Chhattisgarh and Jharkhand, events like the one mentioned raise uncomfortable questions about the degree to which our country’s internal security apparatus is in touch with the local realities they are trying to improve. Given the long and difficult history of the Indian government’s relationship with tribal lands—as designated within the framework of the Constitution’s Scheduled Lists—events like these are likely to exacerbate the trust deficit between the state and citizens in these areas. The second event occurred on July 7, 2012, when RTI activist Ramesh Agrawal (56) was shot by unknown assailants in Chhattisgarh. Over the past few years, Agrawal has been in the news because of his attempts to uncover the processes associated with the grant of land for coalmining projects in northern Chhattisgarh and earlier land grants for the iron and steel industries. Within days of the attack on Agrawal, two other green activists—Akhil Gogoi (Assam) and Bharat Jhunjhunwala (Uttarakhand)—also using the RTI to raise questions about environmental exploitation, were also targeted. These attacks are worrying for at least two reasons. First, they reveal the growing intolerance in quarters towards citizens’ political engagement as a First Principle Right granted to them by the state. Second of all, they create an impression that those who actively participate in the democratic space described as the civil society can come under attack when they threaten the powerful. The third event relates to the ongoing dispute over the grant of land to POSCO, the third-largest producer of steel in the world. POSCO has been trying to set up its operations in Orissa for years now. This initiative has a checkered past and it continues to insinuate itself into the lives of Orissa’s rural communities. The initiative has resurfaced because the Posco Pratirodh Sangram Samiti— leading the anti-POSCO agitation has—organised a rally at Gobindpur, Orissa, to reiterate its opposition to land acquisition for the mega steel project. Not surprisingly, a number of petitions are also circulating in cyberspace, strengthening PPSS’ mobilisation on the ground. Such mobilisations should not be viewed as passing gestures. They are signs of a growing restlessness among groups, who find themselves struggling to get their voices heard in the legitimate forums of India. They are also symptomatic of a sense of hurt and resentment among those who, despite the land laws such as Panchayat (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act (PESA) and Forests Rights Act (FRA), feel bulldozed by imperatives of India’s growth story. These three randomly selected events (one can identify more) help punctuate the growing strain on the country’s democratic polity which to a large extent is a result of growing (class, ideological and cultural) rifts within the civil society. Each constituency chooses to see things from its partial vantage point with little empathy for the other. For all intents and purposes, the Indian government continues to treat Naxalism purely as a law-and-order problem, and not a political one—even as tribal groups resent attacks on their lands as an assault on indigenous livelihoods and culture. RTI activists are perceived as a rag-tag bunch of troublemakers. Those opposing big industries, such as the Gobindpur community, are described as antigrowth and by extension anti-India; leading them to question the motives of private capital and state. In the middle of these divergent viewpoints, facts often slip through cracks. In these circumstances, what is the way forward from the perceived sense of injustice felt on all sides? The answer lies in truth. Any attempt at reconciliation and justice must be preceded by a commitment to the truthful demystification of past wrongs as experienced and narrated by the principle actors. This must be done in ways that are, and are perceived as, legitimate by all parties. An instrument that has had some success in this regard is the truth commission, like those set up in countries since the 1970s. Like any instrument, the commission’s success is contingent on intentions of those using it. Indeed, the success of the South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission, established in 1995 after the abolition of Apartheid, came on the heels of 20 truth commissions that preceded it. History shows us that such processes are never easy. And South Africa is not India. While by no means perfect, such initiatives are critical building blocks in pursuit of justice and democratic goals. Quite simply, preserving democratic values requires work and a spirit of humility. With sense of betrayal and resentment growing among so many constituencies in India, initiatives such as this need to be pursued with a sense of urgency. Honestly, there is no moment to lose.