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Gurcharan Das

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Guest Column for Outlook’s Independence Day issue (August 2006)
Let our cities reflect the spirit of a new age.
By Gurcharan Das
Words: 1150

When I heard two weeks ago that one Sanjay Singal, chairman of Bhushan Power and Steel, had bought a one acre plot on 4 Amrita Shergill Marg in New Delhi for Rs 137 crores, I wanted to rush up to him and say to him, ‘Now that you have one of India’s most prized properties, do select a great architect to build your home. For god’s sake, let’s not have another cut-and-paste job. Your building ought to symbolise the rise of a new age in India after the reforms, and millions will remember you for having captured a great moment in our history.’ For good architecture has the amazing ability to represent the life of the times in our imagination.

This issue of Outlook is about the way “the world looks at India”, and one of the most potent ones is visual memory. A great nation or city is defined by its buildings. We remember Paris not only by the Eiffel Tower, but by the wonderful boulevard buildings of Baron Haussmann. We think of New York by the Empire State and the Chrysler buildings (although my favourite is Mies’ Seagrams building). Sydney has its exciting Opera House. Although Seattle’s signature is the Space Needle, etched in my memory is Rem Koolhaas’ public library. There is even a city which was ‘created’ by a building— Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum is rightly called the ‘miracle of Bilbao’, which put this unknown city in northeast Spain on the world map. These visuals symbols are not just symbols of man’s quest for beauty, they also reflect the spirit of an age.

It is fifteen years since the golden summer of 1991 when we lost our innocence and with it our fear of the global economy, and began our affair with the free market. It has been a remarkable period which has spawned world class companies and made us one of the world’s fastest growing economies. Time, the Economist, and Foreign Affairs recently did cover issues on this ‘rise of India’. Yet if you think about it, we don’t have a single visual image which celebrates this new age with its spirit of economic freedom and the unshackling of the energies of the Indian people, and in parenthesis, the slow decline of the old bureaucratic state.

Certainly, we do have some powerful visual reminders of our great cities. When you think of Mumbai, you think of the Gateway of India (although VT station is what I think of). Delhi has Qutub Minar, Humayun’s Tomb, India Gate, and a host of visual symbols. But these are images of our colonial and pre-colonial past. The first and last visual moment of post-Independence India was in the mid-1950s when Jawaharlal Nehru, with plenty of vision and courage, commissioned Le Corbusier to design Chandigarh. Swadeshi voices were raised even then—‘why can’t an Indian architect do it? But Nehru had little patience for petty minds with their petty complexes, and he stood firm. He may have been the victim of bad economic ideas like ‘import substitution’ but his mind was as open as Rabindranath Tagore’s when it came to the world.

The civilized merchant prince, Vikram Sarabhai, supported Nehru’s bold approach and he invited Corbusier to design a house for his family in Ahmedabad. During this fertile period in Ahmedabad, the great Louis Kahn built the campus of the Indian Institute of Management and Ray and Charles Eames were associated with the National School of Design. Thus, two geographies of contemporary India entered the history of world architecture, Chandigarh and Ahmedabad. Corbusier went on to inspire a generation of great architects—B.V. Doshi, Charles Correa, and many others.

Chandigarh is by now the memory of an age gone by. The city captured our utopian, post-Independence dreams of socialism, secularism and democracy, and more importantly our faith in the state’s ability to do good. By the seventies, however, Indira Gandhi had perverted these ideals and socialism had turned into a statist Licence Raj and democracy was almost extinguished by the Emergency. Our mood of despair finally lifted with the announcement of sweeping liberalisation in July 1991. It was as though our second independence had arrived: we were going to be free from a rapacious and domineering state. A new stage in our history had begun with a decisive shift in country’s energy to the private sector.

So now, when Infosys, Wipro or TCS puts up a new building, it should ask itself, if what goes on inside is world class, shouldn’t the outside reflect this achievement? The same responsibility devolves upon our other globally competitive companies like Bharti, Bharat Forge, Jet Airways, ICICI Bank. Come to think of it, if Sir Norman Foster could design the Hong Kong airport and Renzo Piano the Kansia airport in Osaka, why don’t we have great architects design our new airports in Delhi and Mumbai? The responsibility for ‘dreaming Chandigarhs’ has now fallen on the business class, particularly on builders like DLF, Mittals and Rahejas.

Just before Sanjay Singal bought his acre in Lutyens Delhi, Navin Jindal had paid Rs 165 crores to buy 3.8 acres on Mansingh Road. At these prices one can now afford to bring in a Renzo Piano, Frank Gehry, Richard Meier or even I.M. Pei. A good place to start looking for a great architect is among the 27 recipients of the annual Pritzker Prize, architecture’s equivalent of the Nobel Prize, but there are many more to choose from.

It is time we took our cities seriously. They have unbelievable energy; they are crowded; but they can be beautiful. The word ‘city’ is related to ‘civic’ and ‘civilization’, and the city is a place of civilization. Some Indians have a prejudice against urban towers, which is understandable for a typical glass and steel tower is aggressive, arrogant and black, and it is trying to say, ‘I am more powerful than you’. But when someone like Renzo Piano thinks of urban towers, he thinks of San Gemignano, and a ‘desire to go up, to breathe fresh air, to disappear into the sky…it is not a bad idea to go up in dense cities.’

A hundred years from now the world will remember the first quarter of the 21st century not for 9/11 as many Americans believe, but for the rise of China and India. It is as important a moment in world history as the Renaissance and the Industrial Revolution. Kenneth Clarke reminds us: ‘A great historical episode can exist in our imagination almost entirely in the form of architecture. Very few of us have read the texts of early Egyptian literature. Yet we feel we know those infinitely remote people almost as well as our immediate ancestors, chiefly because of their sculpture and architecture.’ So, let’s return the compliment to liberalization by putting up some great buildings and make something out of our cities that will live after us.
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Gurcharan Das is the author of India Unbound and other books. He was formerly CEO of Procter and Gamble India.

India’s law and China’s order  The Financial Times

The Chinese premier’s recent visit to India was a good thing because it took our minds off Pakistan, even for a fleeting weekend. We really must learn to ignore Pakistan and heed China. If Pakistan pulls us down into an abyss of terrorism and identity politics, China will lift us up, I think, firing our ambition for better roads, schools and health centres. I used to either admire or fear China, but now I am more relaxed. Both our economies are among the world’s fastest, and both are on the verge of solving their age-old economic problem. China’s success is induced by the state, however, whereas India’s is due to its private economy. Although slower, India’s path may, in fact, be more suited to its temperament.

Our different pasts explain a great deal about us. In the last 100 years China suffered devastating violence while India was spoiled by amazing peace. China’s 20th century opened with the ravages of warlords; the Nationalists followed with their butchery in the twenties. Japan’s invasion of Manchuria in the thirties made our British Raj look angelic. In the forties came Mao’s massacres as Communists took power. Mao’s ambitions sacrificed 35 million in the Great Leap Forward in the fifties and brought more misery during the Cultural Revolution. It was not until 1978 that the Chinese breathed easy, and then they went on to create the most amazing spectacle of economic growth.

Saints, on the other hand, created India (in Andre Malraux’s words) and this happened in the shadows of Hitler, Stalin and Mao. Not only did we escape the World Wars, but we became free without shedding an ounce of blood, thanks to Mahatma Gandhi. Yes, half a million died in the Partition riots, but it was not state sponsored violence. Because we were addicted to peace, I think, we created the world’s largest democracy. Although Nehru’s socialism slowed us down for three decades, we did not wipe out our private economy with its invaluable institutions of corporate law and the stock market. So, when we broke free from our socialist shackles we had this advantage over China.

This explains why India’s recent economic success is driven by its entrepreneurs. The best thing that its government is doing is to slowly get out of their way through its reforms program. India is spawning highly competitive private companies, such as Reliance, Jet Airways, Infosys, Wipro, Ranbaxy, Bharat Forge, Tata Motors, Moser Baer and Hindalco. China’s government, on the other hand, is suspicious of its entrepreneurs. Only 10% of China’s banking credit goes to the private sector, although it employs 40%.

Nothing quite illustrates the difference between India and China as their approach to the English language. While many states in India are still debating if English ought to be taught in primary schools despite huge popular pressure from parents, the Chinese government has decided to make every Chinese literate in English by the 2008 Olympics. It seems bizarre that India, whose success in the global economy derives from its facility with English, should remain hostage to the deep insecurities of its vernacular chauvinists. As for the Chinese, I am confident they will win plenty of medals, but I don’t think learning English will be quite as easy. Even though I cannot help but admire their ambition, I console myself that India has been spared their earlier ambitions at social engineering, notably the Cultural Revolution.

Because India’s government is ambivalent, the market is solving peoples’ enormous appetite for English. Thousands of English teaching shops and schools have mushroomed. Unlike my generation, today’s young think of English as a skill, like learning Windows. Their minds are ‘decolonized’ and to them English is one of India’s many languages. They are quite comfortable mixing English with Hindi words in a fashionable mix called Hinglish, which has become increasingly pan-India’s street language. Advertisers, in particular, have been surprised by the terrific resonance of slogans such as Coke’s ‘Life ho to aise or Pepsi’s ‘Dil mange more’. David Crystal, author of the Cambridge Encyclopaedia of the English Language, claims that India may already have the largest number of English speakers in the world.

India’s public debate over teaching English in primary schools seems inconceivable in China. Nor will India grow at eight percent (versus six) because it has too much law and not enough order, too much democracy and not enough governance. If it came to a trade-off, however, I don’t know anyone in India who would give up democracy for a two-percentage points higher growth rate, even though it might put us twenty years ahead. We have waited 3000 years for this moment–to wipe out poverty–and we would rather wait another 20 years if necessary, and do it in our own way with democracy. And frankly, life is more than just a race between China and India.

Mr. Das, former CEO of Procter & Gamble India, is the author of India
Unbound (Profile Books, 2002).

A WINNING STRATEGY FOR POST-REFORM INDIA Outlook

The truth is that a decade after the reforms most Indian companies are floundering. With a couple of dozen exceptions the vast majority has failed to become truly competitive. Our companies have still not acquired the confidence or the skills to succeed in the global economy. Most continue with a “factory mindset” when the industrial age is disappearing. Most sell cheap, shoddy products. 

It has become increasingly clear that a definite divide has emerged in Indian business. And it is not the divide between the so-called “new” and “old” economy companies. It is between those companies who have a clear strategy and are quietly building competitiveness and those that are not.  

The best Indian companies have been re-inventing themselves, building on their strengths, investing in talent and technology, and approaching the type of competitiveness achieved more broadly by Korea and Taiwan. Reliance and Hindalco are two outstanding examples. Those who think that Indian brands are disappearing should note that Titan watches are stronger after the entry of Timex. Maruti may have lost market share, but it is putting up a good fight and becoming innovative. BPL, Videocon and Onida are holding their own in colour TVs, despite the entry of global players. Bajaj may be struggling, but this has more to do with a shift in the market than competition. Even Thums Up is well and alive within the coke stable. Taj and Oberoi continue to expand their world-class hotel chains. 

There are only three ways that a company can create sustainable competitive advantage. It can compete on the basis of superior costs or superior products or superior service. There is no fourth way. I find that most Indian companies are still following the cost/price strategy. This is a vulnerable approach—for example, when the neighbouring country devalues, your cost advantage disappears overnight, as we learned painfully during the East Asian crisis.

Indian companies have many failings—they are short term; they try to do too many things and lack focus; they do not invest enough in improving their employees or their products; they have been unable to separate the business’ and the family’s interests—but, I think, their biggest failing is that they are following the wrong strategy. 

It is unrealistic to expect Indian companies to become technology leaders. This is not because Indian scientists are not capable, but because Indian companies will take time to mobilise the power of science and create a technology driven culture. The companies of Korea and Taiwan still do not have a technology edge. Eventually, some will become innovation-driven, but it will take us 10-15 years to get there after sustained investments in R&D.   

The right strategy for Indian companies is the third--to differentiate themselves by offering unparalleled service. This is a far cheaper strategy than to invest in R&D or in cutting prices. In the competitive global market, the quality and price of most products have narrowed to the point where it is only service that distinguishes companies. A survey in the U.S. found that 68 per cent of customers are lost not because of quality or price but because of service. Service builds on the proven capability of Indian traders in the competitive bazaar economy. 

Anyone who has shopped in a sari store or eaten in an Udipi restaurant knows the Indian traders' ability to deliver superior service. The employee in a typical sari store opens a hundred saris within five minutes in an attempt to sell a single one.  Similarly, the waiter in a typical restaurant or dhaba delivers the customer's thali in two minutes. Among larger companies, HDFC and Sundaram Finance are good examples of superior service. Everyone recalls the positive experience of dealing with HDFC for a housing loan. The legendary loyalty of truck customers to Sundaram Finance is based on excellent service. 

Commitment to a service strategy means that you hire new employees on the basis of their attitude and train them on skills. Most companies do the opposite. No matter which of the three strategies you adopt, however, you have to deliver a threshold level of quality, price, and service in order to exist. But in order to gain advantage over others, you must choose one and stay with it. 

A strategy based on superior service can be especially powerful where the value added is high. Superior service delivered by highly trained “knowledge” workers—scientists, engineers, market researchers, salesmen—provides a powerful insulation against competition. Not only can knowledge workers harness the power of information technology, they can also be trained to benchmark their deliverables against competition and against customers’ needs.  

Creating competitive advantage takes years of painstaking effort and few Indian companies have had the patience or the inclination to do so.  It requires the ability of the top management to penetrate into the messy details of the business, without losing sight of the big picture.  Most Indian businesses have found themselves hopelessly unequal to this task. Until 1991, they could blame the Socialist Raj. Now, a decade after the reforms, they have no one but themselves to blame. 

THE ‘CAN CAN’ TWIRL Outlook, Aug 15, 2003

A resident of Vadapalani Road in Chennai wrote to me last year to say, “Our street used to be one big garbage dump. The bin outside our home was always overflowing because the corporation van did not often show up. My neighbour in frustration used to set the garbage on fire, but the smoke irritated my asthma and I would douse it with water. So, we began to quarrel and we fought all the time.  

“But one morning the dustbin suddenly disappeared and a brightly painted cart stood at my door with a boy in uniform and gloves. Called the ‘street beautifier’, he taught us to separate our garbage at home. Each morning he would empty the organic waste into the green section of his cart and the recyclable waste into the red section. When he had covered the street, he would take the cart to our Zero Waste Centre, and empty the organic waste into a storage tank that had holes at the bottom and where it got converted to compost. He would sell the recyclables and the compost to augment his income. I have to pay Rs 20 a month for this, but our street is now spotlessly clean, and where there was garbage outside each home, we have now planted trees.” 

All this happened, she told me, because residents of Vadlapani Road decided to form an Exnora Club. Started by M.B. Nirmal, a bank manager, the Exnora civic movement has been so successful that it has rapidly spread across the entire South, and now covers 40 per cent of Madras city, 75 per cent of its suburbs and has clubs across Tamilnadu and the three southern states. Its 17,000 street chapters provide clean, scientific garbage collection to approximately 17 lakh homes. Having realised their collective negotiating power, many clubs have begun to solve other civic problems, such as sewage, street lighting, and water supply through their municipality. Hence, Exnora was recognised by the United Nations Conference on Human Settlements in 1996 as one of 100 Best Urban Practices around the world.

The story of Exnora is not unique. It is one of hundreds of examples of a new India that began to emerge in the nineties, and I think it happened because we broke decisively with the old dogmas of the ancien regime, shedding our earlier rigidities of the mind, as we discovered a new view of ourselves and of the world. This change in mindset more than anything can help to unravel the behaviour that underlies the theme of this special Outlook issue.  

We were liberated politically, economically, and socially in the nineties in India, but the biggest change by far has been in our minds. Politically, we were freed from the rule of a single party—nay, from the dynastic rule of a family; but more importantly, power has increasingly begun to filter downwards to the states and to the villages, as local self-government (“panchayati raj”) has slowly become a reality. Economically, liberalisation began to free us day by day from the heavy hand of bureaucrats and politicians. Socially, the lower castes have continued to rise through the ballot box and growing literacy. In Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, the newfound freedom is palpable in the body language of the Yadavs and other backward castes.

The profoundest change, however, has been mental and the young have led the charge. Our minds have become decolonised, and there is a new feeling of confidence in the air. Gone are many of our inhibitions and hang-ups of the past. Economists and businessmen instinctively understand the value of confidence in entrepreneurial success and in creating a climate for investment. Historians also understand the power of confidence in national success, and they point to examples in Roman history and Japan’s success after the 1868 Meiji reforms. We have begun to observe some of this self-assurance in India since the nineties.

I don’t think we know why this has happened. Perhaps, it is the impact of television, especially with the advent of competitive cable TV. Perhaps, it is due to the reforms, which have been reducing the intrusive power of the state in our lives, making us begin to rely on ourselves. What we do see is lots of young Indians moving about in all manner of new ways, with a “can do” attitude that doesn’t need approval from others, especially from the West. People have begun to speak on these cable channels in a curious mixture of English and Hindi in a most relaxed manner, and they call it Hinglish.  Pop stars like Daler Mehndi and A.R. Rehman display an exuberant nonchalance, as do the new young Bollywood heroes. So did new fiction writers in English, the designers of fashion clothes, the beauty queens and the cricket stars.

Making money became increasingly a legitimate route to success in the nineties, as we lost our earlier hypocrisy towards wealth. All sorts of unlikely people began to take risks with their savings, either by starting new businesses or on the stock market. There was a flowering of entrepreneurship since no one needed a licence to get started, and the discourse in India gradually began to shift from politics to economics. The business pages of newspapers became livelier; chief ministers in the states scrambled for private investment; judges became more even-handed in industrial disputes and no longer assumed that capital must always exploit labour. Even trade union leaders began to rethink their mission.

Our changed attitude to English, I think, best explains this new mindset. When I was growing up it mattered far more how you spoke than what you said, and you could get away with rubbish as long as you said it in the right accent.  Today, young Indians in the new middle class think of English as a skill, like Windows or learning to write an invoice: “I need to answer my customer in Hungary and my supplier in Taiwan, so I have to know English.” And this is why Hinglish is spreading. Encouraged by Zee, Sony and Star TV, and supported by their advertisers, the newly emerging middle classes avidly embrace this uninhibited hybrid of Hindi and English, and this popular idiom of the bazaar is rushing down the socio-economic ladder. The purists naturally disapprove, but most of us are more comfortable and accepting of it today. This is because we are more relaxed and confident as a people, realising that this is how languages evolve. Over the decades we have learned painfully that it is often better to go with the tide than to impose one’s will--all those damaging experiments in Bengal, Gujarat and other states, which deleted English from the school syllabus, have been quietly rolled back.

Ever since the British left we have heard constant complaining against the English language, and then one day in the 1990s it suddenly disappeared, and quietly, without ceremony English became one of the Indian languages. English lost its colonial stigma, oddly enough, around the time that the Hindu nationalists came to power. Hindi protagonists lost steam because they lost their convictions--their own children wanted to learn English. Based on present trends India will become the largest English-speaking nation in the world by 2010, overtaking the United States, according to the English linguist, David Dalby, the author of Linguasphere Register of the World’s Languages and Speech-Communities. Dalby predicts that India will then become “the centre of gravity of the English language”. Thus, it would seem just as intrusive to want to remove English from India today, as it was to introduce it during the time of Rammohun Roy and Macaulay.

Beyond language, I also think young Indians are more willing today to face life as it is and see it without the gloss of religion. They are less willing to evade life. The old Hindu-Buddhist idea that ‘life is suffering’ no longer resonates. Like all the other evasions, religion is fading in their lives. Life contains none of the qualities traditionally described by religion. But modern life too, they realise, is difficult to exult over. So, they are ready to put up a fight against all odds--against dowry, insolent bureaucrats, greedy businessmen--and even if they don’t win, the struggle affirms them. Even in defeat it is the struggle that matters. Let me conclude this enterprise on a sceptical note, however. One ought to be careful (and humble) in making statements about national character for these generalisations are inevitably over-simplifications of a complex reality, and end in stereotypes. Especially when one is talking about an infuriatingly diverse country like India—no matter what one says about it, the opposite also holds true. Hence, we get rubbish such as Nirad Chaudhari’s Continent of Circe or Naipaul’s An Area of Darkness--both books filled with wonderful insights yet in the end so wrong in the way they distorted rather than uncovered reality.

This is why I feel more comfortable with the economist’s explanation of change. Marcur Olson and others who look to institutional change to explain behaviour would say that  the many liberations and the new energy we are seeing in India is the result of a gradual reform of our statist and socialist institutions of the Licence Raj. They would argue that Indians are simply responding to the new incentive systems created by the reforms and learning to depend less on the state and more on themselves. And this simple explanation of our confident new mindset is a good reason, I expect, to support wholeheartedly the whole enterprise of economic reform.

IS INDIA REALLY SHINING?  The Economic Times,  30, Dec 2003

Indians have good reasons to feel confident. Our economy has grown 5.9 percent per year since 1980, making it the fifth fastest growing major economy in the world over a 23 year period; this is not a case of one swallow making a summer. We may be well behind China, but remember that the West created its Industrial Revolution at a 3 percent growth rate over 100 years. More recently, our population growth has begun to slow, and in 1998 it was down to 1.7 percent compared to its historic 2.2 percent growth rate. Literacy has also begun to climb—it reached 65 percent in 2000 compared to 52 percent in 1990, with the biggest gains taking place among women and the backward states. More than 200 million Indians have risen out of destitution since 1980 as the poverty ratio has declined to 26 percent. And we may have finally found our competitive advantage in our booming software and IT services. Finally, all this has happened amidst the most appalling governance; imagine, what might happen if governance improved.

If our economy continues to grow at this rate for the next three decades—and there is no reason why it should not—then the majority of the people in half our states should be middle class in the first quarter of the century and the other states should get there in the second quarter. At that point poverty will not vanish, but the poor will come down to a manageable ten percent of the population, and the politics of the country will also change.

I travelled widely across India in 1995 and discovered that the nation’s mindset had changed in the nineties, especially of the young, whose minds had become decolonised. This became one of the premises of my book, India Unbound, and I felt this mental liberation would be a powerful force in national regeneration. I also wrote that for all Indians to benefit from our recent prosperity we needed to reform agriculture and education. We are on the verge of a second green revolution, which like the first one will be labour intensive and will be based on a technological breakthrough (this time, on the new GM seeds.) For that to happen we need extensive agricultural reforms and move away from peasant farming to agribusiness.  Equally, we must drastically improve our government schools in order to offer some hope of equality of opportunity.

Our national weakness is governance. We have to recognise that our past failures were due less to ideology and more to poor management.  Hence, we have to focus on the reform of our institutions more than even of policies. This is a much tougher job. Let’s take heart from the institutions that do work—Indians admire the armed forces, the Supreme Court, the Reserve Bank and the Election Commission. (Curiously, except the Election Commission, these are the same institutions that Americans admire most in their country.) So, it is possible to have good institutions in India. If we can reform telecom we should also be able to do the same with our institutions of electric power. India Shining will have a hollow ring unless we sustain vigorous reform of our institutions, including the control our disgraceful fiscal deficit.

National confidence is a good thing; it makes ordinary people do extraordinary things. Ask a historian of Rome, and he will testify to its amazing power. Or of post-Meiji Japan, or 19th century Britain, or even current day China—they will all bear witness. Ask a CEO and he will tell you that a sustained positive feeling among employees often separates success from failure. To be sustained, however, confidence has to be based on performance, not on bombast. Also, confidence can easily degenerate into chauvinism, arrogance and militarism, and these are bad things. Finally, the truly confident know they are good; they are ‘quietly confident’ and don’t need to proclaim it in ‘India Shining’ campaigns.

To India’s entire political class Brutus’ famous words in Julius Caesar (about ‘a tide in the affairs of men’) should be a timely warning: that we stand at a crucial moment in our history when the stars appear to be on our side. If we do not seize the moment and improve our governance and accelerate the reforms, then history will not forgive us. 

PRIVATE SECULARISM! Outlook, 12 Apr, 2004

“The country with the most impressive and intelligent secularist movement is India,” wrote Christopher Hitchens in the respected journal, Daedalus, last summer. Hitchens is a public intellectual who is read and listened to with some admiration on both sides of the Atlantic. He did not explain, but I think what he meant is that Indian secularism has acquired many voices and it seems to be maturing.

It is sobering to remember, however, that Indian secularism was unable to stop the murderous carnage in Gujarat, which may have receded in public memory by the good cheer from a rapidly growing economy and an approaching election, but still remains a blot. There is a change, nevertheless, in the rhetoric of the political class this time. Amidst the usual scramble for seats and alliances there is healthy silence on religion. The turning point seems to have been the four state elections in November and December, and every politician who has been interviewed in the past eight weeks has talked about “bijlee, sadak, pani”. Our fondest hope, of course, is that these three words will replace “mandir, masjid, and mandal” in our political lexicon, and when that happens we may be looking at the most dramatic change in the Indian political mindset in decades. Clearly, it is too early to proclaim that victory.

Coming back to Indian secularism, it is important to ask why it has failed to stem the rising tide of intolerance in recent years? And the reason, I suspect, is that it is identified in the public mind with atheism. It is true that many of our most vocal secularists were Marxists and they did not value the religious life. In a well-meaning effort to limit religion to the private life they behaved as though all religious people were superstitious and stupid. This naturally didn’t go well with the majority of Indians who are deeply religious and suspicious of godless, westernised, brown sahibs telling them what to do. Our secularists were also statist, thinking that the state could reform society and religion, which is again arrogant and foolish for genuine reform must emerge from within society. Moreover, our secularists forgot that the truly religious are usually deeply secular. Thus, what has failed is not the noble philosophy of secularism but its practice in India, and in the meantime, intolerant fundamentalists have filled the vacuum. 

Partially as a reaction to this failure a new generation of secularists have come to prominence in the past 15 years, and this is what Christopher Hitchens has in mind. The change began when Ashis Nandy first assaulted the old, orthodox, Nehruvian secularists with his critique of the European modernity in the mid-1980s. He promoted a return to tradition, wherein we might find the roots of a religious tolerance of a different kind, which might better resonate with the masses than the hegemonic language of Western secularism. A year later, T.N. Madan, the distinguished sociologist, wrote that secularism was having a problem in India because the realms of the sacred and secular continued to be deeply intertwined in Indian tradition. Secularism would only succeed in India if we understood it to mean inter-religious understanding and an equality of citizenship rights; he added that we should “take both religion and secularism seriously, and not reject the former as superstition and the latter as a mask for communalism and or more expediency.” 

This attack did not go well with the Nehruvian secularists, who roundly chastised Nandy and Madan for feeding into the hands of the Hindu nationalists. In the early nineties, Partha Chatterjeee, the eminent social scientist at Columbia University, questioned if secularism was, in fact, the right way to stop Hindu majoritarianism. The Hindu right, he argued was perfectly comfortable with the institutional processes of the modern state, and the main issue was not ideology, he felt, but to protect the cultural rights of the minorities, and this could best be done through toleration “premised on autonomy and respect for persons…but made sensitive to the varying political salience of the institutional contexts.”  

Neera Chandoke, the political scientist at JNU, responded by arguing that the concept of toleration was not enough and that minorities needed supportive structures in order to protect their cultural identity. The writer, Mukul Kesavan, and others rightly worry, however, that this sort of thinking will only delay the day when we might call ourselves equal and common citizens of one state. Rajeev Bhargava, the editor of an excellent volume of essays on Indian secularism, distinguishes between political and ethical secularism, and says that to exist in a more liveable polity, we as citizens need to agree to what is right rather than what is good.  Let’s just be content with living together, rather than living together well (which is, of course, another project, and a valid one too.) 

So, how do we begin to privatise religion? The answer, I think, lies with the deeply religious but moderate voices in each religion’s mainstream, who must come forward and proclaim once again that true religion has nothing to do with political life. The failure of our contemporary public life is that we do not hear these voices, but only hear the shrill voices of extremists at both ends. It was not always so. Earlier, we had sensible public figures who were also deeply religious. Mahatma Gandhi, Maulana Azad, Vivekananda used to speak with credibility on behalf of the vast majority of religiously minded Indians. Today, what we have is an unfortunate polarization between an influential and articulate minority of secularists and the vast majority of silent, religiously minded Indians. Neither takes the trouble to understand the other, and what we have as a result is a dialogue of the deaf. We need to hear the many reasonable voices of good sense within the Hindu and Muslim religious communities, surely, there must be a few courageous individuals who will speak up before their faith is totally hijacked by the terrorists! 

Following Rajeev Bhargava, our secularists should learn from the American philosopher, John Rawls, and distinguish between public reason and secular reason. While public reason limits itself to political and civic principles, secular reason is broader and deals with a secular person’s moral doctrines and first philosophy. Our secularists need to be aware of this distinction and refrain from introducing secular values and secular reason into political debate. This is not easy to do, I realise, because liberal political values are intrinsically moral values and closely intertwined with moral doctrines.  

Above all, let’s learn from our own Emperor Ashoka, who ruled when Hindus and Buddhists were fighting each other in mid-third century BCE, and who declared in his famous Edict XII,  “The sects of other people deserve reverence…By thus acting, a man exalts his own sect, and at the same time does service to the sects of other people…He who disparages the sects of others…inflicts the severest injury on his own sect.” Here is a wonderful insight for our times: you damage your own religion when you malign another’s and secularism is not only good for governance but also for religion. Those who call for a Hindu nation not only harm the nation, they also damage Hinduism.

INDIA SHINING (1984 – 2004), RIP? Outlook, 12 Jul 2004

It is no use pretending. While the last general election brought some good news--especially, a well deserved slap to Narendra Modi’s fascist face—it also brought bad news. The hugely positive global sentiment in favour of India that had prevailed until mid May has received a setback. The clearest example is the dramatic slowdown in the growth in the nation’s reserves. Until the week ended May 7, reserves had been growing at the rate of US $750 million a week. This accretion to reserves had diminished to less than US $100 million a week. The rupee has also reversed its appreciating trend. Although this may, in fact, be good for exports, but the currency trend combined with the stock market crash demonstrates that sentiment has changed, and if this is not reversed quickly it will hurt new private investment in the economy, and longer term growth, competitiveness, and jobs.  

Sentiments are fragile and often irrational, but they do matter. Entrepreneurs invest when they are feeling good and stop investing when doubts creep in. This is what has happened in India. Doubts have crept in, and the self-confidence that had fuelled investment during the past nine months has largely evaporated. Both Indian and foreign investors have once again begun to have doubts about India as a worthy destination for investment. Thus P. Chidambaram faces a heroic task. For no matter how much you tell investors that the fundamentals of the economy have not changed—that it is still the same sound economy as it was two months ago—market sentiments have a life of their own, and they do not always listen to reason. 

Although the left tends to dismiss it, national confidence is a good thing. Ask any CEO and he will tell you that a sustained positive feeling among employees often separates success from failure. Ask a historian of Rome, and he will testify to its amazing power. Or of 19th century Britain, or Japan between 1960-1990, or even current day China—they will all bear witness to the clout of self-belief, which makes ordinary people do extraordinary things. This confidence has been jolted by this election.  

Before relegating “India Shining” to history’s dustbin it is well to remember that it did succeed in one space, and there it succeeded spectacularly. The business class both in India and abroad bought the idea that India had become a serious player in the world economy and was poised to make a leap forward. This had generated tremendous excitement in the corporate world, both in India and abroad, and for almost a year I could feel a palpable optimism in my interactions with investors and business people. The offshoring controversy in America may also have fuelled it, and the foreign press certainly reinforced it. From a land of snake charmers India had suddenly become a serious competitor for the white-collar jobs of the developed world. I was abroad in February and March this year and never have I seen such a spate of positive views expressed by foreign commentators about India.  

Right through the nineties, China had been the big success story. Quietly over the past couple years, however, India had somehow crept onto the radar of global media. Hence, during the past year every time China was mentioned India’s name was attached to it. Earlier this year the New York Times wrote in a front page story that China and India were going to write the script for the 21st century. But the more cautious rendition was usually “China and to lesser extent, India” as the Economist put it. This positive perception of India has diminished, if not ceased entirely, ever since the stock market crash. The Indian left may have contempt for markets, but investors watch markets, and since we are part of the global economy, investor sentiment will determine investment, growth, and jobs.  

I ask myself, why has this sentiment suddenly changed when the fundamentals about our economy are the same? In part, I think it is because the Indian whining story has also affected the business community, which has concluded that India’s economic prospects were perhaps never as rosy as they had been led to believe. And the defeat of the BJP has reinforced this perception. In the process of trashing the BJP’s tall claims, the opposition unintentionally ended in trashing India, the country. Investors began to wonder if the story of India’s prospects were a bunch of tall claims, when the reality may have been that it was still the same “under-achiever” which the Economist has been portraying for years. I don’t think that Congress meant to trash the country, but this is how it ended, and our country became the victim of competitive democratic politics. Self-confidence has always been lacking in our society, especially in the business community. I don’t know what and how long it will take to rebuild it. We certainly have an outstanding economic team in place today, but as I said before, sentiment is irrational and elusive. 

The well intentioned Common Minimum Program (CMP) of the new government probably did more to kill this spirit than anything else. The idea of reservations in the private sector, when the prospect of labour reform had died--this frightened managers who were engaged in the hard day to day work of running companies. As it is, they had to put up with a sub-optimal work culture with endemic absenteeism, and now this burden of reservations. It is a future just too awful to contemplate!  

Businessmen have repeatedly expressed the view that they would happily pay to lift the poor if they had the slightest faith that the money would reach the poor. They agreed that the best way to lift the poor was through good primary schools and primary health care. Hence, they didn’t mind the proposed education cess. But they worried about the condition of our municipal schools: 93 percent of Bengali primary schoolchildren can’t write their names in Bangla; 30 percent of teachers are absent in Bimaru states, 50 percent don’t teach and most beat their pupils. Unless we first reform our schools (by giving parents’ associations a voice, for example, in the teacher’s pay) we would only be wasting the nation’s hard earned money. As it is, India spends around Rs 1 lakh crores on education (which is higher than most countries as a percent of GDP), but because of teacher absence and other inefficiencies, a third is perhaps wasted. That is a waste of Rs 30,000 crores!

“India shining” is a nice expression and it’s a pity that it got mixed up with politics. Since it is synonymous with India’s economic success, not surprisingly both the BJP and the Congress wanted to take the credit. The BJP claimed that its policies were responsible for the past year’s fine performance and the changed mood; the Congress argued that the economy grew faster under their man, Narasimha Rao. Both were right (and wrong). The truth is that India’s economy has been shining for two decades, growing around 6 percent a year, making it the fifth fastest major economy in the world.

After stagnating for centuries, our economy did finally pick up after Independence. It grew 3.5 percent a year between 1950 and 1980; but our population also grew 2.2 percent; hence the net affect was 1.3 percent per capita income growth (3.5 minus 2.2)—this is what we mournfully called “the Hindu rate of growth.” Things began to change with modest liberalisation in the eighties when annual GDP growth rose to 5.8 percent while population growth remained at 2.1 percent; thus, income per capita moved up to a more respectable 3.7 percent. This happy trend continued in the reforms decade of the nineties when growth averaged 6.2 percent a year, and population, in fact, slowed to 1.8 percent average; thus, per capita income rose by a decent 4.4 percent a year.

What these numbers mean is that if our per capita GDP had continued growing at the pre-1980 level, then Indian incomes would have reached current American per capita income levels only by 2250. But if our economy continues to grow at the present 6 percent rate, and if population grows at 1.5 percent, then we will reach American income levels by 2066. This is a gain of 216 years, and this is what “India shining” really means. And it is worth dying for! It means that it is finally possible to believe that we shall soon be able to conquer India’s age-old worry over want and hunger.

It is easier to explain why India was shining in the nineties. The brave reforms of Narasimha Rao’s government opened our economy, dismantled controls, lowered tariffs and taxes and broke public sector monopolies. And the economy responded magnificently. But how does one explain the pick-up in the 1980s? And here I think we don’t give enough credit to Rajiv Gandhi. He too opened the economy, albeit reticently and modestly—lowering marginal taxes and tariffs, removing the most irritating import restrictions, and liberalised industrial licensing through “broadbanding”. Although modest, these efforts seem to have had a bigger impact that even the sweeping reforms of the 1990s.  Bradford Delong, an American economist, wrestles with this puzzle in In Search of Prosperity: Analtytic Narratives on Economic Growth, edited by Dani Rodrik of Harvard. The real miracle, however, is that all the governments after Rao surprisingly continued the reforms, albeit in a frustratingly slow way. Yet this elephant-like pace has made India one of the fastest growing major economies in the world. So, the lesson is that if you consistently reform in one direction in a democracy, it adds up. Since we haven’t had strong reformers at the top, like Thatcher or Deng, is it possible that the reform process has become institutionalised?

This “adding up” over time has enhanced our national confidence, and which to my mind is central to the notion of “India shining”. Thus, it is the Indian people who are shining as they have overcome all the obstacles put in their way by self-serving bureaucrats, politicians, monopolistic industrialists, left intellectuals and labour leaders—in short, all the vested interests of the Licence Raj. But for all Indians to shine, we must begin to seriously reform agriculture and education. This ought to be the agenda of this government.

This election has reminded us that left’s historic role is to make the right sensitive to the needs of the poor and to humanize capitalism in the process. Unfortunately, our left is bankrupt in terms of ideas, and thinks that throwing good money at old problems will solve them. Moreover, the left has not ditched its naïve faith in state control when our nation is groaning under the weight of red tape. This statism makes the left look stupid. In the end, the problems of India’s poor will not be solved by ideology but by good implementation. And this needs mental application. We have to focus on the “how”, not the “what”. It is easier to abuse the India’s bourgeoisie, but more difficult to come up with real answers to real problems.

Dear Prime Minister,

Like it or not, India’s general elections have become municipal elections. What matters to the rickshawala is that the cops not take away a sixth of his daily earnings. The farmer wants a clear title to his land without having to bribe the patwari. The sick villager wants the doctor to be there when she visits the primary health center. The housewife doesn’t want the water tap to go dry while she is washing. This is how government touches ordinary people’s lives, and in successful societies people take these things for granted. You might say that these are state and local subjects, but to ordinary citizens you are the face of the government and they expect this from you. Moreover, the Congress controls many states, municipalities and panchayats. You can, at least, hold them accountable.

Where does the illness of governance lie? Why don’t employees of the central, state, and local governments do their jobs?  In the Far East, for example, citizens get far better service. Is it because we protect labour excessively in India, to the point that they no longer feel accountable? This was my experience in the private sector, at least--our labour laws have taken away accountability and diminished our companies’ competitiveness. Thus, you may have to tackle labour laws despite your partners.  

If you buy my argument about governance then your focus will shift from policy to implementation. Hold your finance minister accountable for the behaviour of income tax officers, excise and custom inspectors. Judge you home minister, for example, for eliminating harassment of honest NGOs who get foreign donations. Reward your economic ministers for eliminating red tape--foreign investors repeatedly tell us that they prefer China over India because of our red tape. In the end, even if you make a small but perceivable difference, you will break the “anti-incumbency factor”, which is a code word for poor governance. If you do not, then you will be asking for the return of the BJP in 2009.

THIS IS NOT ONLY AMERICA’S WAR

It is more than a month since the short, macabre dance of death in New York and Washington changed the world. We are now in the midst of a war, but many are uncomfortable and ask who is America fighting? Some are confused, and insistently ask why were they made targets of the September 11 attacks? They also wonder why is America disliked? And in this case, so hated that a few young men were willing to defy the basic human instinct for survival and die for what they believed to be a worthwhile cause. 

I shall attempt to answer these questions from a non-American perspective. I live in India, a country that has eagerly practiced the same American liberal, democratic ideals for a half century. But most Americans are unaware that we in India have been victims of Taliban trained terrorism for more than a decade that has taken hundreds of innocent lives. It is tragic irony that faceless terrorists in Kashmir had set September 11—-the same dreadful day--as the deadline for what women could wear. Tailors in the valley had been busy making burqas for weeks. But an innocent 15-year-old girl, whose tailor failed to meet the deadline, found acid sprayed on her face as she was rushing home from school. She lost an eye and her pretty face was disfigured for life. 

Two years ago Osama bin Laden announced from his hideout in the mountains deserts of Afghanistan, "India and America are my biggest enemies and all mujahideen groups in Pakistan should come together to target them." Since then I have wondered why he singled out India and America as his targets.  

It is tempting to believe that India and America are the prime targets of Osama and the Taliban because they are open, pluralistic, and liberal societies. They are the two largest democracies in the world. They have to constantly deal with diverse minorities and they present a constant challenge to fundamentalists, who are more comfortable in monolithic states with one religion, one language, and one mind. (Indeed, both Hindu and Muslim fundamentalists have this problem in India.) Yet, I believe, it is simplistic to blame democracy and the open society alone for the September 11 suicide attacks on America. If it were only a war against freedom, as President Bush says, then the Statue of Liberty would have been the first target. 

Indians have welcomed Bush’s global war on terrorism partly because it has strengthened our own government’s hand to fight terrorists here. Maulana Masood Azhar is India’s Osama bin Laden. He is the mastermind of Jaish-e-Mohammad, a Pakistan based terrorist group that claimed responsibility for the suicide bombing in Srinagar which killed 38 people three weeks after the attacks in America. Indians were relieved when America announced the freezing of this group’s bank accounts because of its links with Osama. Azhar believes in jehad like Osama, and India needs to go after him with the same vigor that America is going after Osama.  

Until America declared a war on terrorism, the rapidly growing Indian middle class had been resigned to live with terrorism. It regards all forms of religious extremism with disdain—as something divisive and irrational that comes in the way of its “rational” preoccupation with a rising standard of living, upward mobility, and the peaceful pursuit of electronic appliances. The world has not realized how much India has changed since the 1991 reforms. Its economy has grown 6.4 percent a year for a decade (and 7.5 percent for three years in a row), making it one of the ten fastest growing economies in the world. More recently, population growth has begun to slow, and in 1998 it was down to 1.7 percent compared to an historic 2.2 percent growth rate. Literacy has climbed to 65 percent compared to 52 percent a decade ago, with women and the backward states registering the biggest gains. More than 120 million Indians have pulled themselves out of poverty in the past decade as the poverty ratio has declined to 26 percent. And the nation may have finally found its competitive advantage in its booming software and IT services. At this rate half of India (that is, the west and the south) should turn middle class by 2025, and India will see its share of world product rise from 6 to 13 percent, making it the third largest economy in the world.

This is the future that terrorism threatens and this is why the Indian middle class supports America’s war. However, many Indians are offended by the America’s historical indifference to non-American lives. America has historically propped up dictators in Latin America and backed tyrants in Africa and Asia, and this has led to the death of millions around the world. I wonder if this disregard for non-American lives explains why America is so disliked around the world.

Then there is the usual anti-Americanism, just as fashionable in our influential left wing and academic circles as it is in Europe and Latin America. These are the same people who are against economic globalization, technology, free capital flows and foreign influences. They charge that America is arrogant, hypocritical and is exporting an unhealthy consumerist way of life. However, this sort of anti-Americanism does not resonate with the common person, who loves the incredible achievements of America’s scientists, artists, athletes, filmmakers, and only last month was moved by the courage of New York’s firemen and rescue workers. 

About 12 percent of India’s population is Islamic, and they are more ambivalent about America’s war. Our Muslims are more ready to argue the Palestinian case, and believe that America could have done more to restrain Israel. They are upset that half a million Iraqi children have died as a result of American economic sanctions. They are consumed by the irony that Taliban and Osama bin Laden are America’s creation from the cold war. We have a few Islamic fundamentalists as well, but the truth is that the average Indian Muslim is moderate but confused about what is happening. Hence, we have not seen Indian Muslims protesting against this war.  

Amidst the confusion, uncertainty and fear--after all, Afghanistan is almost our neighbor--ordinary Indians understand that in the end this is a war against fanaticism and terror, and for civilized tolerance. They realize that in all wars some innocent people will be killed. But they also know from unhappy experience that almost every victim of terrorism is an innocent person. Thus, this is not an American war. It is also our war. But President Bush has to be sensitive as he prosecutes it. He needs to convince the world that non-American lives are just as precious as American ones. Otherwise, for all the good that America will achieve, the world will continue to dislike America.

WHO IS AMERICA FIGHTING AND WHY?

It is a month since the macabre dance of death in New York and Washington and we are now in the midst of a war, but I am not sure that we understand what this is all about. People around the world are uncomfortable and insistently ask whom is America fighting? Americans are also confused. They want to know who are their enemies and why do they hate us? And hate so much that that a few young men defied the instinct to live and died for it. The trouble is that America is at war against people it doesn’t know, and having gone off to war, it can’t very well return without having won it.

President Bush says that it is a war against freedom. He says that democracy and the American way of life is under attack. In the present atmosphere of grief and anger this is easy for Americans to accept.