Solid schooling throughout the country is the need of the hour; it will not miraculously transform sinners but can substantially reduce sex abuses.
The pain and shame of this New Year recalls the anguished cry in Alan Paton’s epochal novel, Cry, the Beloved Country, about the horrendous suppression of indigenous peoples in South Africa, “Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply. Let him not laugh too gladly when the water runs through his fingers, nor stand too silent when the setting sun makes red the veldt with fire. Let him not be too moved when the birds of his land are singing, nor give too much of his heart to a mountain or a valley. For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.”
Fitting India in some – not all – senses, that lament is also a reminder that economic success alone does not define a civilized nation. True emancipation lies in education. No society can be regarded as civilized until all its men and women share an enlightened outlook. Rape and murder, dowry deaths and bride burning, the reaction of khap panchayats and honour killings, caste discrimination and sati burning, even pogroms against Muslims are the grievous price India is having to pay for grossly ignoring primary education.
Paton’s despairing lines were uttered at a time when South Africa was by far the most economically successful country in Africa. It accounted for 40 per cent of the total GDP of the 48 countries south of the Sahara, whereas Nigeria, three times more populous, lurched along in second place with around 14 per cent. The remaining countries, in raw economic terms, barely counted.
South Africa’s loathsome apartheid heritage had not been legally institutionalised when Cry, the Beloved Country was published in early 1948. Solid institutions underpinned its democracy. South Africa boasted a proper Parliament and electoral system, a good new Constitution (until apartheid was formally introduced), independent courts, a vibrant press and a first-world stock market.
Yet, despite these indisputable advantages, the treatment of its human resources made South Africa a disgrace to the Commonwealth (of which it was then a leading member) and to the comity of nations. It was ultimately judged – and found seriously wanting – on the touchstone of how the least important, the least influential of South Africans were treated.
It is so in India too. India’s viability as a democratic nation must be judged not by glittering symbols like Mr Ratan Tata or Mr Mukesh Ambani but by the condition of its underprivileged – whether Dalits, Adivasis, rural poor, urban bustees — and by the plight of its womenfolk.
There are, however, two major differences between the Indian and South African situations. One concerns official policy, the other is education. Combined, they present India with a more difficult task because political change or institutional reform alone cannot transform the mindset of the people.
South Africa could be redeemed because there the government unashamedly claimed that man and man were not equal, and framed laws and social practices on the basis of inequality. Dutch South Africans even claimed Biblical sanction for discrimination, arguing that Blacks were the sons of Ham destined in the Bible to hew wood and carry water. New laws, a new bureaucracy and a new political establishment swept away all that.
Here, a sublimely noble Constitution regards all men as equal in theory, and bestows special favours (quotas in education and employment) on the underprivileged. In practice, ancient prejudices remain in full force, while the special favours have added another elite group to those who were already privileged. Not only that. Positive discrimination has generated a sense of alienation in sections of people higher up the social ladder. One saw this feeling at its most virulent in the aftermath of the Mandal Commission report and in the demands of the so-called Other Backward Classes. Now, one sees it in the upsurge of middle class anger.
Mr Anna Hazare’s campaign, Mr Arvind Kejriwal’s political party and the abuse and death of the unnamed 23-year-old medical student all provided an outlet for middle class anger. These white collar groups feel aggrieved they are not rich enough to influence policy. They are not numerous enough either to comprise an important vote bank that political parties need to placate. The Delhi outrage triggered off their explosion, the initial core group possibly comprising medical students with a fellow feeling for the dead girl.
This aspect of the countrywide upheaval – the mass meetings, silent processions, candle-lit vigils, public speeches, placards, and media frenzy with constant exhortations on television – bears remembering. All the latest means of communication (twitter, Facebook, SMS and what have you) are playing an important part in mobilizing support. Opposition political parties have also chipped in. Anyone with an eye to the 2014 Lok Sabha election, with an axe to grind or a grievance against the Gandhi family finds a ready platform over such an emotive issue. The saffron-wrapped Baba Ramdev didn’t miss the opportunity to push himself into the limelight again and try to regain
some of the fame he lost when he was caught trying to run away dressed like a woman.
All this helps to explain why this particular case has been blown up into a national issue when other similar tragedies are neglected. Open a newspaper any day of the week and you will find one or two rape complaints tucked away inconspicuously at the end of a column or as a news filler. For every case reported, there must be several that go unnoticed. Nobody takes them up because the victim is of no social, economic or political consequence, or because her suffering fails to touch the popular imagination.
Because of a combination of circumstances, this one has assumed the proportion of an international cause celebre, with even the United Nations secretary-general Mr Ban Ki-moon intervening. Some opposition politicians hope this tragedy will be as politically explosive as the self-immolation on December 17, 2010 of a 26-year-old Tunisian fruit seller. Others would like India Gate to be like Cairo’s Tehrir Square, fondly hoping they can then ride to power.
Equally far-fetched solutions are mooted. Girls should learn the martial arts, says Mr Nitish Kumar. Mr Praful Patel wanted the Delhi victim given a state funeral. The Congress Party suggests “chemical castration” of rapists. Someone wants the latter stoned to death. Others had already beaten up the accused in jail and forced them to drink urine.
Cry, the beloved country, indeed, if savagery is to beget savagery. Policing and the legal and administrative systems must, of course, be immediately tightened, but the long-term need is for man to rise above animal passions. That can only happen with education. Not just fudged literacy statistics but solid schooling throughout the country. It won’t miraculously make saints out of sinners but education of men and women alone can substantially reduce the level of sex abuses.
SUNANDA K. DATTA-RAY
