“The only indisputable victim” was how The Economist described India’s democracy, over what it termed as the “farce” of Rahul Gandhi’s sentencing by a lower court and consequent disqualification from holding his seat as an MP in Parliament. One of only many soulful dirges lamenting the state of the world’s biggest democracy. And yet, part of the problem has been a structural one which Indian democracy has grappled with from its very beginning: the legitimacy of dissent and ceding a space for oppositional politics at the individual and party level.
The existence of a hegemonic party in power at the Centre has always exerted a strong centripetal urge, that crowded out the expression of any meaningful opposition both in the individual states as well as at the national level. From the architect of the modernist vision for the Indian state — India’s first PM — who also had the dubious distinction of undermining and replaced the first opposition-elected state legislature in the country, to his daughter who perfected this tactic and replaced chief ministers almost on a whim with alarming frequency and undermined any oppositional movements arising in the states, this has been a serious problem. During the Congress hegemony this led to divisive militancy in sensitive border states and an electoral backlash in others. At the federal level repressive laws on sedition and anti-terrorism legislation along with the law and order machinery through the organs of the ED and CBI were selectively deployed against political opponents and vocal critics of the government. The most extreme form this took was, of course, the declaration of the Emergency which suspended democracy and basic civil rights for its duration.
While these earlier attempts eventually failed for several reasons, the current dispensation in power has learned from these past mistakes and, through what one prominent political scientist, Christophe Jaffrelot, has called its deployment of “electoral authoritarianism” whereby it has successfully married religious chauvinism with nationalism, has been able to effectively capture almost all independent institutions such as the judiciary and enforcement agencies and cow most of the mainstream media, while maintaining the veneer of a democracy. Its mobilisation of funds, through the electoral bonds as well as other channels, has meant that it can far outspend its rivals, and control of the administrative machinery has enabled it to dominate the electoral landscape at the national level with only regional parties and leaders being able to withstand the juggernaut.
Various protest movements from civil society, such as the “award wapsi” protest by several prominent intellectuals, have been unable to make a substantial dent in what some have termed as the “silent Emergency”. The replacement of the Congress by the BJP as the hegemonic party at the centre has proved to be more successful in this regard and has enabled the reluctance to tolerate any dissent, or see a legitimate role for an opposition, to be translated into a more hard-line intolerance of any dissent or opposition at all. The dream of a “Congress-mukt Bharat”, in the words of the current PM, seems both more sinister and closer to being achieved in this regard. As several commentators have noted, such tendencies seem most salient when there is a strong hegemonic party in power at the centre; conversely, the much maligned period of coalition governments, derided for their unwieldy collection of diverse and often antagonistic competing interests, proved to be less of a threat in this regard.
This speaks to an important truth about the practice and exercise of democracy; from the framers of the Constitution to the architects of the modern Indian state, democracy was never meant to be just a mode of governing or be reduced to expressing preferences at the ballot box. It had also an important pedagogical and participatory element and in the words of John Dewey offered a “mode of associated living, of conjoint communicated experience.” A democracy was intended to convey and enable a shared and common interest and way of being. This means that one had to not only consider the actions of others but also how the actions of others informed how people themselves chose to act. It meant the end of isolation — the isolation not only of the individual but also of individual groups. It meant moving beyond the social segregation imposed by rigid group differentiation. An important way of achieving this is choice and the availability of different choices and options to citizens. This is where the importance of having a political party system that provides such choices to the electorate comes to the fore. Crucially, this includes the existence of an effective opposition to the existing government of the day, and the availability of voices that can express counter-narratives to the existing dominant political narrative. It is only with the genuine presence of such choices, not only electorally but also in terms of political ideologies, that a real practice of democracy becomes possible. This is why it is essential that in a competitive electoral system, which is mutually antagonistic, there is a consensus around the need for and a tolerance of opposing political parties, voices and narratives.
As Ambedkar had said in his evidence to the Southborough Committee on Franchise, citing the great liberal philosopher, LT Hobhouse: “The success of democracy depends on the response of voters to the opportunities given to them. But conversely, the opportunities must be given in order to call forth a response.” Through its action in trying to suppress political opposition and muffle dissident voices of criticism, this government takes away such a choice and removes this range of opportunities to voters. The result is a much-diminished democracy for all of us.
Conrad Barwa is a senior research analyst at a private think-tank, and a senior research associate at the Birmingham Business School
