This piece was never meant to inaugurate this ‘room of my own’ that I have finally acquired on Substack. I had spent the last few days desultorily drafting a personal essay on how wonderfully significant 2019 has been for me. Before you begin to wonder if the year was bedecked with life-changing events, let me disappoint you by saying that it has been a particularly uneventful period. But I will, hopefully, return to that essay to tell you what really this calendar year was about.
However, today, as I sit in my study (unable to get to the library that is my new haven), I cannot help but ponder the futility of personal growth at a time when my country writhes in pain, and the future looks impossibly grim. As of December 19, 2019, protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) and the National Register of Citizens (NRC) rage across the country.
Last night, while speaking to a friend on the phone, I was self-indulgently reciting my morning routine, which entails grabbing a cup of coffee within minutes of waking up. This morning, I forgot all about the indispensable coffee as I woke up to the disturbing news of an Internet shutdown, barricaded Metro stations, the implementation of Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code that forbids public gatherings, and an unprecedented crackdown on democratic rights. What followed were horrifying visuals of India’s foremost intellectuals, writers and activists being callously manhandled and detained by the police for participating in a (very) civil protest. One after the other, channels of communication were closed, flights were cancelled, and the toxic air in the city became more poisonous still. What is most striking is that in the light of these events, our country’s alarmingly grave issues of unemployment, staggeringly slow economic growth, violence against women, and severe environmental hazards, have been rendered wholly unimportant.
What is most striking is that in the light of these events, our country’s alarmingly grave issues of unemployment, staggeringly slow economic growth, violence against women, and severe environmental hazards, have been rendered wholly unimportant.
It will, of course, not be a matter of surprise to learn that a vast number of citizens support the CAA and NRC because they not only believe that it does not affect their rights and status as Indian citizens, but they believe that it justly cleanses the country of the infiltration (sic) by certain minority groups. But I cannot simply blame these people—their minds have been successfully colonized. None of this has happened overnight. Over the years, the government has tactfully laid the groundwork for spawning an agent in every other citizen, who naïvely keeps vigil and promotes the agenda of ethnic cleansing. You’ll find them as trolls on Twitter, or as members of the Good Morning brigade on your family WhatsApp group.
Until a few days ago, every time I got into an argument with a person who favoured the lead-up to this day, I simply hoped to win that argument. I hoped that my sharp rhetoric—acquired customarily as a student of the social sciences—would come to my rescue and I would prove them wrong. But in the last few days, I no longer hoped to be right—I sincerely wished there to be some truth to what they say about the good intentions of this government. Alas, there’s no truth there. We are in the throes of a fascist regime. No matter which side of the debate you are on, please note that in this situation, unlike in almost all others in life, there is an unequivocal right and a wrong.
In the wake of this (much) sooner-than-expected Orwellian reality, it is heartening to see the number of intrepid voices that are rising against the Act that quite evidently violates the Constitution of India. Among the fearless dissenters, there are some who believe that civil protests may not help change the situation. But I beg to differ. If we discount the power of raising our voice, we are essentially dismissing the value of any form of art or self-expression. We are fortunate enough to be able to hark back to the works of Mahatma Gandhi, Khushwant Singh, Margaret Atwood, Anne Frank, George Orwell, and many other present-day writers and artists, who forewarned us of this day.
Secondly, a display of solidarity against the vicious intent of the CAA and the NRC is the need of the hour. Let it be a matter of theatrics, if that’s what it appears to be—the truth is that they are afraid of these voices, because why else would they scramble to silence them?
Thirdly, I agree that protesting alone may not help restore our rights and dignity as the citizens of India. We need a mode of resistance that cannot be hijacked by those in power. I would imagine that it isn’t impossible to outwit these autocrats—sure, they know how to play their game well, but perhaps we could invent a new language of resistance in which they are yet unversed. In the manner that humour is used to instantly diffuse an oppressive situation (imagine having a good laugh to the face of an authority figure), we must revisit the days of Mahatma Gandhi to create a new discourse and a new narrative through which we can mobilize the masses to fight back in a way that cannot be silenced.
The Constitution of India
The Preamble
WE, THE PEOPLE OF INDIA, having solemnly resolved to constitute India into a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC and to secure to all its citizens:
JUSTICE, social, economic and political;
LIBERTY of thought, expression, belief, faith and worship;
EQUALITY of status and of opportunity;
and to promote among them all
FRATERNITY assuring the dignity of the individual and the unity and integrity of the Nation;
Speaking of voicing dissent, I would imagine that many of India’s prominent public figures are blithely unaffected by a situation like this. But I greatly admire everyone who does speak up. It is significant that mainstream figures like Chetan Bhagat are speaking up. Because, fortunately or otherwise, mainstream figures cannot simply be vilified as members of the divisive left. It is a different matter that a country that has so much disdain for its intellectuals (it’s striking how intellectuals have become a class by themselves—should not all of us strive to hone our intellectual abilities?) is surely on a dismal path.
The writing is on the wall—if we remain silent today, we will be silenced forever.
If you’re sitting before your television screen, rejoicing at the beginning of this genocide, please note that fascists have no soft corners. These Machiavellians will come for us all, one after the other. With the NRC, they will begin by deciding who is Indian and who is not. They will then tell us how to be a good Indian. This will be followed by silencing and detaining (yes, there are detention camps already) those who do not conform. From the way you dress, to whom you talk to, to what you read (if at all), to what you put on your plate (this has already happened), they will tell us how to be. And, if we falter, their omnipresent agents, who believe that they are serving the cause of the nation, will send us to those very camps. If you don’t yet see the striking similarities between the deadliest despotic regimes in history and this, what more will it take?
In three days, I am due to fly out of the country for a period of three weeks. I am afraid of what I might return to. I am afraid of coming back to feel like a refugee in my homeland. Some suggest that I should consider relocating, because my privileges allow me to. But I have never wanted to leave this country. If I were to do so today, I will spend my life in exile.
The world’s largest democracy appears to have changed the very definition of the system. Democracy, today, no longer upholds the values of social justice, equality and liberty, but reeks of majoritarianism. These are dark times indeed.
What, then, is the way?
Stay informed. Be unselective in your reading. Don’t remain silent—voice your opinion with clarity and sensitivity. If you believe in the divine, pray for an intervention.
But, more importantly, let’s put our heads together to devise a mode of resistance that those in power cannot appropriate. Let’s initiate a meaningful dialogue among the Indians who can see the bleakness of the present day.
Because, really, today, there are only two kinds of Indians—those who can see where we are headed, and those who are in for a dreadful surprise.