| Gurcharan
Das
Magazine Articles
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.
------
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.
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