In the long, tortuous and still unfolding process of justice after the communal violence in Gujarat 2002, the Supreme Court of India has played a commendable role. Its several interventions have ensured that the process stays on course, that it was insulated from pressure by the powerful, and that victims and survivors could hope for a fair and just closure. This is why the two arrests on Saturday, of activist Teesta Setalvad and former Gujarat DGP RB Sreekumar, are disquieting — the FIR is based on extensive quotes from the SC verdict and its annexures the day before. On Friday, the SC upheld the SIT’s clean chit in the 2002 riots to the then Gujarat government led by Chief Minister Narendra Modi, discarding allegations of a larger conspiracy by high state functionaries. The collapse of that particular case was, arguably, foretold — connecting the dots right up to the chief minister’s office was a tall order to begin with, and the case may have been propelled more by the anguish of those devastated by the violence, less by evidence that could hold up in a court of law. In the same order, however, the Court went a worrying step further. Its verdict said, and the FIR lodged the next day faithfully quoted: “At the end of the day, it appears to us that a coalesced effort of disgruntled officials of the state of Gujarat along with others was to create sensation …to keep the pot boiling, obviously for ulterior design… all those involved in such abuse of process, need to be in the dock and proceeded with in accordance with law”. The day after, the question is: Surely the court would not countenance a witch-hunt that borrows its lines from the court?
The law must take its course on Sreekumar and Setalvad. But there is a problem with an FIR that draws so heavily upon what the court says, and a court verdict that lends itself to such immediate police action against those standing with the petitioners in cases of 2002. What the court said on Friday and the police taking its cue from it on Saturday also appears to turn on its head the story so far — after all, it was the same court that, down the years, took a number of unprecedented steps to ensure justice for 2002. The SC stayed the trials in certain cases in response to allegations that there had been serious lapses in investigation. It set up an SIT and supervised designated fast track courts for hearing sensitive cases. It ensured that cases were shifted outside Gujarat so that justice could be done. Its interventions resulted in the reopening of nearly 2,000 post-Godhra riots cases. The SC, in fact, became the centrepiece of a larger effort in which individual activists, NGOs and the NHRC, among others, contributed towards bringing justice closer to victims and survivors of the communal violence that took place in Gujarat a little over two decades ago.
The cases stemming from Gujarat 2002 raise serious questions about a range of abdications by institutions and actors. The collapse of one case should not become the pretext for a sweeping indictment of the whole struggle for justice and accountability. The SC must also reflect on whether it behoves its status and role as the wise custodian of constitutional processes and values to be seen to be turning on those who were stricken by the violence and knocked on its doors, even if, as it turns out in this particular case, their plea failed to hold.
In a democracy, can a right once granted be taken away? In the current international debate, this question has become part of the rising intellectual and political concern over “democratic backsliding”, a concept that depicts how democracies weaken and decline without collapsing fully.
As the world’s oldest surviving democracy, the United States has figured prominently in this debate, especially since Donald Trump rose to the presidency in 2016, engaged in a lot of anti-minority politics, and finally sought to overturn his 2020 election defeat. But after all is said and done, the American debate thus far has been about whether it is legitimate to put some restrictions on the exercise of franchise by racial minorities, who vote markedly less for the Republican party and considerably more for the Democrats. Strictly speaking, the debate has not been about the right to vote per se.
With the US Supreme Court’s decision on June 24 to overturn a half-century-old right to abortion, granted by a 1973 Supreme Court decision in the Roe vs Wade case, the debate has now become wider, as it moves from how to engineer voter suppression to the larger realm of rights. With a 5-4 majority, the court has said that American women have no nationwide right to abortion. Rather, state legislatures should decide whether women can have that right in their respective states. In several states, within hours of the court’s decision, abortion was banned, for prior legislation existed. Though Democratic states would steadfastly protect the right to abortion, nearly half of the 50 states are likely to go the other way. In the new field of democratic backsliding, comprising the retraction of rights, the floodgates have opened up.
In poll after poll, a majority of Americans, bordering sometimes on three-fourths of the population, support women’s right to abortion. So, what the court has done is against popular will. But that cannot be the principal criticism against the decision. Courts are not fundamentally governed by popular passion or will, which can fluctuate from election to election, but by constitutional propriety. The key question is whether the right to abortion was constitutionally justified.
The 1973 court decision allowing the right to abortion was based on the 14th Constitutional Amendment (1868). This Amendment, the court said, allowed protection of liberty and privacy, something the state could not impinge upon. Thus, even though abortion was not mentioned in the 1787 US Constitution, abortion’s defence was derived from the 1868 Amendment — via its protection of citizens’ liberty about matters as intimate as a decision to have a child. The 1973 court also argued that this right was not absolute, limited as it would be by considerations of “protecting potential life”. This line of reasoning led to a trimester-based court ruling, which more or less forbade the government from interfering in the first trimester of pregnancy but the state could ban abortions in the third trimester, when “the viability of the fetus” was beyond doubt.
This whole structure of judicial reasoning has now collapsed. In the court’s opinion, the right to privacy stemming from the 14th Amendment is not relevant, for abortion concerns not only the pregnant woman but also the life of the unborn. Moreover, the court said, abortion is neither “enumerated” as a right in the original 1787 constitution nor is it consistent with American history and tradition. In short, it is a political and legislative, not a constitutional, matter. State legislatures should decide what is permissible.
How should a political analyst comment on this tussle? Hard as we might wish otherwise, constitutional decisions are inevitably tied up with politics. There is no escape from political reasoning.
First of all, no constitution can fully anticipate how the arc of rights would bend in the future. Abortion was not mentioned in the 1787 constitution, nor explicitly in the 1868 amendment. That is because women were not autonomous political agents at that time. Until they were given the right to vote in 1920, they were not a constitutional category in the US, as was true virtually everywhere in the world. Women are autonomous agents today. Norms change; rights evolve.
Second, as the court’s dissent note puts it, how can this majority decision ignore rape and incest? Why should women carry the child of a rapist, a father or an uncle? If abortion as a right is dissolved, women can be forced to give such unwanted births. The majority decision of the court is silent on this important matter.
Third, having a child is not simply a deeply moral obligation to the unborn. It is also a decision that affects “the ability of women to participate equally in (the nation’s) economic and social life”. These words are from a later decision, known as Casey (1992), when the US Supreme Court added the concept of “undue burdens” to support the idea of abortion. As more and more women become scientists, professors, journalists, lawyers, managers, executives, politicians and sportspersons, these considerations cannot simply be brushed aside. If a woman chooses to terminate a pregnancy now but has a child later, that may be more consistent with her dreams and desires, to which she has a rightful claim.
Finally, men don’t have to deal physically with pregnancy, whereas the foetus grows inside a woman’s body for nine months. If men have the right over their bodies, which can’t be taken away by the government, why can’t women have autonomy over their bodies as well? Why should they be subjected to the government’s authority and supervision any more than men’s bodies? That men are free, but women must forcibly be chained to maternity, is an idea whose time surely has gone. Maternity must be a voluntary choice. There is no going back to the notion of rights as they were viewed in the 18th century — unequal, unneutral, unbalanced.
With the Supreme Court’s overturning of abortion as a constitutionally guaranteed right, America has taken another step towards democratic backsliding. Now, democratic renewal not only means fighting for more easily accessible voting procedures but also a push for a legislative codification of the right to abortion. Typically, as they evolve and deepen, democracies allow the arc of rights to broaden further, not retreat. After this judgment in the US, the stakes have become much higher and the democratic challenges bigger.
The writer is Sol Goldman Professor of International Studies and the Social Sciences at Brown University
Without us getting into how old I am, why is it that I feel 100 already? One reason of course is the mirror, a cruel, cruel friend. The second is what I have been telling myself, ever since Prime Minister Narendra Modi penned an ode to his mother’s century and all of Motherhood.
And ever since I watched a streaming show where a mother of two small children runs away with an old boyfriend — as part of a pact they made when in college — for a few days of “seizing her life back”. In a desperate cry for help, she says that she loves those tiny, adorable beings, but that she never realised that having them meant that “she had to just hand her life over”.
And, she is only this side of 40.
If that didn’t have me thinking of motherhood and all that it comes endowed with, almost always by other people, came the US Supreme Court judgment telling women they had virtually no right to decide whether they wanted to bear a child or not.
So, in the off chance of my two adorables penning a blog on their old mother, and on the off chance that anyone would be interested enough to read the same, I am putting forth some pointers to what motherhood looks like from this side.
You kids may have heard me say this already, but I want to repeat: no, no one “loves” staying awake nights minding a crying child, managing their tantrums, or separating two squabbling siblings as one is striving to compose a thought at work. We do it because, well, who else will. And, because, you know, it is you.
Most nights, I have dozed off patting you impatiently, too tired to sing lullabies, forget reading a bedtime story. And yes, after a day of handling reality, getting excited about a fairy tale you have read out enthusiastically the first two or three times can be tough, even if it breaks one’s heart having tiny hands pry one’s eyes open, or just watching one’s young ones finally fall asleep.
Your friends are always welcome, but I wish more of them would keep the music low, the drinking slower, and rinse their glasses. Modi’s description suggests a much simpler life. Since I can’t aspire for that, this is where you can make a start.
Next, forget all those smiling, immaculate mothers on TV. The species does not exist. There is nothing a mother wants or needs more, than some time to herself. To let her hair down and put her feet up, before getting both fixed by an expert beautician on call.
Cooking elaborate meals, keeping the house and the kitchen and the closets clean, letting dirty clothes pass, and smile, smile — it’s all very well. We all try hard to be supermoms, before realising we’ve been had: no one makes a movie about them.
The moral is that should you kids write that blog, do go ahead and recount all that I did for you — I can always jog your memory — but hopefully also remember me for the things I did only for myself. As a person with not just needs, but also wants. Like sneaking out alone and enjoying it, un-guiltily, locking the door to watch non-family (politely put) TV, discovering ‘Me Time’ as a thing, and picking Maggi over a full-course dinner. One unhealthy meal never killed anyone and Maggi, not a hot phulka lovingly raised to a perfect moon, is every mother’s secret joy at the end or the beginning of any tough day — and let no one tell you otherwise.
Let it above all be a story that I wrote for myself, not one by a head of state or any apex court. Should I be around at 100, and up to a celebration, or even a blog, dress me up in something sunny, lead me into the park, put on some music, and let’s all say cheers, raise some toasts and dig into some unwholesome delights. Do not let my false teeth come in the way, respect my well-aged nostrils and soon-to-shrivel tongue. Don’t cradle them in a bowl of water or bow before them, but just help me to my feet.
I even have a bhajan planned for when I meet the Maker: “All the hot girls put your hands up ’n’ say, Om Shanti Om”. Allow me to reminisce a bit, about the girl who loved the Khan. And her family — of course.
This column first appeared in the print edition on June 26, 2022, under the title, ‘How about a blog of the mother as, first, a person’.
On that first day of the year, when the world vows to undertake determined self-improvement, my humble resolutions for 2022 were to figure out what a podcast is, and to understand what “metaverse”, a term so liberally bandied about these days, actually means.
In a fit of enthusiasm, I also promised myself that I’ll read up on cryptocurrencies. It’s late June and I have half-heartedly listened to some podcasts (a fancy word for online talk. It’s perfectly alright to go through life without listening to one). But my knowledge of complex topics like blockchains and bitcoins remains abysmal.
There is always a bewildering amount of technological advancement to catch up on. I suspect many people know the buzzwords but lack any genuine understanding like me.
My interest in what I would normally deem deadly boring was piqued by an announcement by luxury fashion brands Balenciaga and Prada, when they said they will be selling digital designs for peoples’ avatars on Instagram and Facebook Messenger.
Apparently, there are people willing to spend real money to dress up their fake selves to appear super trendy in their online lives.
You could be lounging in Uniqlo tracks at home, but if you buy digital fashion, your friends on social media will
see you wearing Balenciaga Fall 22 collection’s three-piece jeans and distressed trench coats.
The idea of buying clothes that don’t exist sounds crazy initially; but if people can spend millions on digital assets in art, unperturbed that their purchases don’t have a tangible form — content merely with digital bragging rights — the rise of virtual clothes shouldn’t be surprising.
Aspects of new tech provoke sneering ridicule because us obsolete, middle-aged relics are inclined to ask a reasonable question: who cares what brands a cartoonish-looking avatar on a computer screen is wearing?
Our generation was brought up on down-to-earth wisdom, taught to always mind the gap between projection and reality — in other words, lies — but the virtual realm calmly accepts human frailties and the restless impulse we constantly
suppress to escape our lives.
As our actual world seemingly hurtles towards destruction, war and displacement, the urge to flee to a safe online refuge only increases.
For a lot of humanity, reality is frustratingly tragic, so an imaginary avatar, over which you can exert full control, must be hard to resist.
Voila! Now, even if you are short, fat and furry in person, there is the option to be a sexy blonde character, donning shimmering gold on Instagram.
Is that a lie? Not if we stop thinking of digital lives being rooted in an illusory dystopia. Technology has proven reality need not be the singular version we’re familiar with.
The idea that we contain multitudes is not new. Gabriel Garcia Marquez had noted in the early 20th century that all human beings have three lives — public, private and secret — and they are all crucial to the human experience.
Life is hard and long, but not too long to explore other, myriad, sides of the self. We should take our cues from 15-year-olds, who don’t make hierarchical distinctions between their online and physical lives to unapologetically tap into the boundless possibilities the virtual world offers. How do we know the world is real? Philosophers have been contemplating since Plato’s time. The Matrix forced us to consider whether we’re being manipulated in a simulation.
Perhaps, it’s more important that humanity has readily embraced the idea that the real is whatever we want it to be. Head on over to British influencer Daniella Loftus’s handle on Instagram @thisoutfitdoesnotexist, where imagination disregards the limitations of clothing.
In one image, darts fly out of her bustier and in another, liquid fire pours out of a leopard skin skirt. It’s wildly escapist, a rich mix of sartorial performance and self-expression.
This is new, uninhabited design territory, maybe, a conceptual leap too far — but that doesn’t make it any less real.
Almost more squalid than the squalid shenanigans in Maharashtra last week is the casual manner in which we have accepted this new normal. It no longer surprises us that our elected representatives betray the people’s mandate by switching sides midstream. It no longer surprises us that when a plot forms to bring down a government, those elected by some of the poorest people in India should luxuriate for several days in five-star hotels and travel in private jets. Why are we no longer shocked by the amorality that has come to characterise our political culture? Why does the Election Commission not ask some questions?
It is vital that questions start being asked. Or there is not the smallest hope that in this ‘new India’, the worst habits and practices of that old India will end. And it must. We badly need a political culture that is not defined by cynicism, corruption, and chicanery. It is no small thing for the government of one of our most important states to be brought down before it has completed its term. But after we saw what happened in Madhya Pradesh and Goa, our sensibilities have got numbed.
The news channels covered last week’s events as if we were witnessing a cricket match, not a political crisis.
Breathless reporters followed the main characters around, sticking microphones in their faces and demanding to know the score. ‘The numbers? What are the numbers?’ Then, exactly like a cricket team would pose after winning a match, Eknath Shinde and his gang of rebels posed for a group photo at the Radisson Blu Hotel in Guwahati. They travelled there on chartered flights from a luxury resort in Surat in the dead of the night. When they were spotted at Surat airport and TV reporters tried to fling the ‘numbers, numbers’ questions at the rebel Shiv Sena MLAs, they were shooed away by Gujarat policemen. Why the secrecy? Why the need to be confined to hotel rooms? Why the need for the BJP to deny involvement in the whole murky scheme, when its fingerprints are so clearly visible?
The mastermind of the whole sordid saga is Maharashtra’s former Chief Minister, who has been trying to bring down Uddhav Thackeray’s government from the day it was formed. It is hard to say for certain why the Shiv Sena chose not to stick with the BJP after contesting the 2019 Assembly elections as a coalition. But rumour has it that there was an understanding that the Chief Minister after this second electoral victory would be from the Shiv Sena. Devendra Fadnavis was so desperate not to lose his job that he tried to hang on by persuading Ajit Pawar to be sworn in as Deputy Chief Minister with himself as Chief Minister in a very irregular, pre-dawn ceremony. Uncle Sharad was not having any of this, so Fadnavis was CM for just three days.
Undeterred by this failed attempt to grab power, Fadnavis has continued with his mission to get his job back. When two sadhus were killed by villagers in Palghar, the incident was used to accuse Uddhav Thackeray of not speaking out loudly enough for Hindutva. It is the Hindutva card that has remained in play. It has been used by Shiv Sena rebels as a reason to rebel. Ostensibly with the pious aim to keep Balasaheb Thackeray’s ‘legacy’ alive by partnering with a political party that has shining Hindutva credentials, instead of battered secular ones. It sounds like no more than a last-minute excuse for breaking a political party and bringing down a government.
Personally, I am no fan of the Shiv Sena. Its political ideology has no appeal for me, and its resort to violence at the smallest provocation appals me. But as someone who lives in Mumbai, I am forced to concede that Uddhav ran a reasonably competent government. His handling of the pandemic has earned him praise across the country and Mumbai has come back to life and commerce with remarkable speed. It has also been something of an interesting political lesson to observe how the Shiv Sena’s rougher edges have softened because of its alliance with two secular political parties.
It is hard, before the deadline of this column, to predict what will happen now. What can be said and what needs to be said is that we must start demanding an end to a political culture that damages not just governments but India.
It is disheartening to watch the worst habits of the Congress party, especially of Indira Gandhi, being embraced by the BJP, especially when the Prime Minister loses no chance to remind us that we live in a ‘new India’ in which the motto is ‘reform, perform, transform’. The words rhyme neatly but they remain meaningless as long as the BJP continues to keep alive a political culture that was despicable even in the ‘old India’
Frankly what puzzles me is why the BJP is so keen to grab power in states where it fails to win elections. Why does it not concentrate instead on reforming, performing, and transforming in states that it already rules, so that it will be easier to win elections in states that have given some other political formation a mandate to govern? If BJP chief ministers could show that they are much better at governance than others, voters in other states would willingly choose them.
This column first appeared in the print edition on June 26, 2022, under the title, ‘A disgraceful saga’.
The political situation in Maharashtra is in a state of flux. One of the seniormost Shiv Sena leaders and Thane strongman, Eknath Shinde, has defied the party leadership, exposing the vulnerabilities of Uddhav Thackeray’s leadership. If Shinde is a Sainik in the old mould of aggressive, street politics, the rebel camp accuses Thackeray of being a weak administrator, inaccessible to his party legislators except through go-betweens, unable to stand up to allies NCP and Congress, biased towards his son Aaditya, and defensive over the party’s core stand of Hindutva.
How then does one understand this situation?
The Shiv Sena has always been an issue-based, reactionary congregation. It adopts issues and works on them till these are used up and moves on to the next. The first instalment of its politics was about the rights of Marathis against Gujaratis and then South Indians. It moved towards Hindu nationalism gradually, thus sustaining its relevance.
The Hindutva brand that Uddhav espouses now is, in a sense, that of his grandfather Keshav Thackeray. Hindutva for the Thackeray patriarch meant self-rule and a strike against Brahmin priesthood. Keshav was known for his staunch anti-Brahmin, lower-caste politics, partly owing to the subordination of his caste group in the varna hierarchy, as a group that worked as scribes or pen smiths and accountants. Uddhav too has lately been calling out the Brahmin in the room, by hinting at the damage caused by the RSS’s Brahminism.
Keshav’s participation in the Satya Shodak movement with roots in the rural base of the Shudras and Dalits also helped Bal Thackeray at the start by giving him a ready base. The core constituency of the Sena was at the time the poor, migrant, working-class population of western Maharashtra in Mumbai. After the Samyukta Maharashtra Movement, it started making inroads among others.
While caste-less politics helped the Sena, it has also been pushed into a corner on the matter. One of its most powerful OBC leaders, Chhagan Bhujbal, left the party over its stand on the Mandal agitation for OBC quota.
The Shiv Sena is also known for its organisational capacity. Its network runs from gullies to the heart of the city. However, this does not translate into an ability to govern the state as a mature party. Girish Kuber, the editor of Loksatta, rightly commented in his column for
The Indian Express that the Sena is more a loose, unorganised social body instead of a responsible, statutory political party.
The cadres do not see themselves as capable of self-governance; this is after being in power twice. More than social action, they are trained in street-level instant justice, building them popularity at the ground level. However, as the leaders go up, they find politics must move beyond.
Then, part of the reason the Shiv Sena was able to spread beyond the Mumbai region was the hope it offered, even if accidentally, to Marathas insecure about the rise of a Dalit rights movement. The firebrand Dalit Panthers is believed to have inspired, in part, the aggressive tactics of the Sena. Even the symbolism of Dalit Panthers was tapped into by the Sena, by choosing tiger as its symbol, against the leaping panther of the Dalit outfit.
If the above have been both a boon and a bane, another drawback has been the gradual transformation of the Sena into the kind of party (read the Congress) that once Bal Thackeray bitterly criticised. While he himself rose to the status of a demi-god, somewhat in the mould of the Gandhis, the reins of the party have moved on to first his son and grandson.
The rest of the Sena leadership too resembles other parties — most of them are Brahmins, alongside Marathas, with some backward caste names. Though the party has a base in the backward castes of the non-Mumbai region, its leaders are mostly of dominant castes from Mumbai.
The difference is more pronounced since Uddhav allowed Aaditya a freer hand as he himself battled several ailments. An important piece of the puzzle is Uddhav’s wife Rashmi. She remains an invisible hand in Thackeray politics.
So will Uddhav’s Hindutva inherited from Keshav survive the onslaught of Modi’s Hindutva drawn from Savarkar?
This column first appeared in the print edition on June 26, 2022, under the title, ‘The caste and politics of Sena’s rise and its crisis’.
Yengde, the author of Caste Matters, curates the fortnightly ‘Dalitality’ column
During World Wars I and II, an iconic poster came up all over the United States. It read: “I Want You — For U.S. Army”. The figure with the top hat was fondly called Uncle Sam. The government of India could attempt a similar poster to publicise its new scheme to recruit soldiers to the defence forces. It may, however, need to add a line, in small print, “for becoming a tailor, washerman or barber”.
The scheme, called Agnipath, is simple, in fact, too simple. Forty-six thousand soldiers will be recruited every year to the three defence forces. They will be trained for six months and deployed for 42 months. At the end of 48 months, one-fourth will be retained to serve another 11-13 years and the rest (about 34,500) will be discharged with a severance payment of Rs 11,67,000. There will be no guarantee of a job, no pension, no gratuity and no medical or other benefits.
The negatives of the scheme were glaring and obvious. It is a fair assumption that the idea was imposed from ‘the very top’. That is the way this government has functioned since 2014. Past examples include demonetization, the Rafale deal, the amendments to the land acquisition law (the LARR Act) and the three farm laws.
Predictably, there were protests, mostly by young men who had trained and prepared for regular recruitment to the defence forces, that had been deferred more than once due to the pandemic. Many of them would have crossed the age of 21 fixed under Agnipath. The day after protests broke out, the government began announcing piecemeal changes, and shamelessly called the changes “pre-planned”. Nothing in the changes addressed the fundamental objections to Agnipath.
Firstly, the timing. The security situation on the entire border is extremely precarious and there is no end to incursions (by China) and infiltration (by Pakistan). One should fix the roof when the sun is shining, not when the rain is pouring.
Secondly, the Agniveer will be poorly trained and cannot be deployed on the frontlines. Admiral Arun Prakash has pointed out that the normal recruit is trained for five-six years. Besides, the Navy and Air Force are increasingly technology-driven and no sailor or airman can be trained in six months. Lt Gen P R Shankar, who retired as Director General of Artillery, in an article replete with data, has argued that when the Agnipath scheme is fully rolled out, India would have an Army with soldiers incapable of handling the Brahmos, Pinaka or Vajra weapon system or being a gunner or a 2iC. He named it the Kindergarten Army!
Thirdly, several distinguished defence officers have pointed out that a fighting soldier must take pride in his unit, not be risk-averse and be capable of exhibiting leadership in a crisis situation. No human resource textbook teaches that such qualities can be imbibed in six months of training. Training of a police constable takes longer.
Fourthly, there is a tradition and ethos in the defence forces, especially in the Army. A soldier must be ready to die for his country and his comrades. The regimental system may be archaic but it made the Indian Army among the best fighting forces in the world. During the four-year tour of duty, the Agniveers know that at the end of the tenure, 75 per cent of them will be unhappy ex-soldiers (without the status of ex-Servicemen) and financially insecure. Will there be camaraderie or rivalry among such soldiers during the four years? How can you expect such soldiers to make the supreme sacrifice, if necessary.
Fifthly, imagine the consequences of sacrificing quality, efficiency and effectiveness for the sake of the economy. The burgeoning pension bill is indeed a problem, but there is no evidence that alternative models were examined. The argument that the Agnipath model has been tried and tested in Israel is puerile. Israel has a small population, practically no unemployment and mandatory military service for the youth. Why was Agnipath not introduced as a pilot and tested before making it a universal and only mode of recruitment to the three services? Now, Vice Chief of the Army, General Raju, has said Agnipath is a ‘pilot’ scheme that will be tweaked after 4-5 years!
A Contractual Force?
The so-called changes and concessions offered by the government do not answer the fundamental question: whether ill-trained, poorly motivated and largely contractual defence forces will not seriously impair the security of the country. A 10 per cent reservation in CAPFs, defence establishments and CPSUs for discharged Agniveers is no answer.
According to the DG, Resettlement (quoted by The Indian Express, June 21, 2022), as against the present reservation of 10-14.5 per cent in Group C posts and of 20-24.5 per cent in Group D posts for ex-Servicemen, the actual percentage employed was 1.29 (or less) in Group C posts and 2.66 (or less) in Group D posts.
If modifications in the recruitment to the defence forces were required, the way to make changes was to publish a status paper, list the issues, seek alternative solutions, discuss the matter in the Parliamentary Standing Committee, hold a debate in Parliament and frame a law or a scheme. The ill-conceived Agnipath scheme must be rolled back and the government must go back to the drawing boards.
This column first appeared in the print edition on June 26, 2022, under the title, ‘Penny wise, security foolish’.
Whichever way one looks at it, the US Supreme Court overturning the 1973 Roe v Wade judgment that gave women the constitutional right to an abortion until 22-24 weeks of pregnancy, is a regression that puts the US among countries outlawing abortion like Laos, the Philippines, Egypt and Iraq. Despite being a democracy, the US will now have states with less safe and legal access to abortion than, say, Saudi Arabia. The right to protected abortion access will now be left to individual states. Assessments show that 26 of the 50 states are certain or likely to ban termination of pregnancy.
By junking Roe v Wade, the guardian of the US Constitution has made women in many states no longer have a say over their own reproductive rights and body. This is a major backslide. No amount of moral or cultural relativism in the form of 'popular will' or 'federal empowerment' can provide cover to this regression. Like the US's permissive gun laws, allowing abortion to become illegal in individual states underlines how civil liberties and protecting rights are mutually exclusive of economic development and progress. They need to be proactively protected as non-negotiable liberal values. The quest towards a more perfect progressive liberal democratic society is never over, nor is its progression linear. Changing mindsets and social structures takes time, constant effort. As Martin Luther King Jr had aptly put it in the context of a struggle for another right, 'The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.'
For people across the world, particularly in younger and less mature democracies, this moment must not be one of hopelessness. Rather it should teach us that the real threat to open societies and liberal democracies is the absence of constant dialogue and exchange, and that hardened positions that deny any segment of its citizenry their rights do not make for a democracy.
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The government is trying to revive investor interest in special economic zones (SEZs) that are not keeping pace with an overall boom in merchandise exports after having lost tax privilege. Since 2020, new SEZs do not receive a graded 15-year income-tax (I-T) holiday as part of a government effort to plug revenue exemptions, and in order to be compliant with World Trade Organisation (WTO) requirements. On the other hand, new manufacturing units anywhere in the country now pay a reduced corporation tax as the country pivots to import substitution. Yet, the potential of SEZs is considerable, and the government is right in planning a raft of incentives to keep them in play. The principal benefit could be the ability of units located in SEZs to sell in the domestic tariff area at a lower levy than the regular customs duty that they do now. The idea being the equalisation levy will neutralise advantages that units in SEZs enjoy over their competitors who pay domestic tariffs.
The draft legislation is also proposing to allow unused parts of SEZs to be denotified, thereby freeing up idling real estate, single-window clearance for ease of doing business in these enclaves, and an arbitration mechanism for settling commercial disputes. Domestic sales could be encouraged through easier rules governing contract manufacturing.
States are being looped in by allowing them to set up oversight boards for SEZs.
The clutch of non-tariff benefits being considered should lower India's import dependency by allowing SEZs to cater to both foreign and domestic markets. Incentivising investments in technology and employment generation would be a good way of being compliant with the WTO dispute settlement ruling that prohibits subsidies based on export performance. The net foreign exchange earning criterion that was at the root of the trade dispute with the US can be relaxed without worsening the business case of SEZs.
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It’s been a week since simmering discontent in the Shiv Sena exploded with a group of lawmakers rebelling against Maharashtra chief minister Uddhav Thackeray and taking off to Surat, then Guwahati, pushing the state’s ruling Maha Vikas Aghadi coalition to the brink. In the last seven days, even as an increasingly desperate Sena has issued threats to the rebels who are led by state urban development minister Eknath Shinde, the dissidents have only grown in strength. As of Sunday, they number 38 of the Sena’s 55 legislators, above the two-thirds mark mandated by the anti-defection law to legally break away without attracting disqualification.
But what about the party itself? The Sena runs on the power of its charismatic and controversial founder, Balasaheb Thackeray, and the regimented structure of its organisation that enforces its militant and populist diktats on the ground. The rebels have made some moves towards claiming that they’re the real Sena and the inheritor of Bal Thackeray’s legacy but an analysis by this newspaper of the top office bearers in the party indicates that this claim may be tough for the rebels to implement on the ground.
Under the leadership of Uddhav Thackeray, the top rung of the party comprises 12 netas (leaders), then 32 upnetas (deputy leaders), then five secretaries, 33 sampark pramukh (communication chief) and 101 zila pramukh (district chief) and up-pramukh (district deputy chiefs). At the neta level, other than Mr Shinde, no member has openly backed the rebels (and nine have supported Mr Thackeray). At the deputy leader level, only four back the rebels. All five secretaries are with Mr Thackeray and so are an overwhelming majority of the sampark pramukh and district leadership. Not only does this indicate that despite facing the biggest crisis of his career, Mr Thackeray continues to have reasonable control of the party machinery but it also hints at why the rebels continue to camp on the banks of the Brahmaputra, and not the Arabian Sea.
Bypolls are usually local in nature. With little impact on the overall stability of the state or central government, the interest of the electorate is largely muted, the incumbents hold an advantage and turnouts are usually depressed. Hence, any extrapolation of the results of a particular by-election to statewide or even national politics must be done cautiously.
Even with these caveats in place, it will not be an exaggeration to say that the results of the bypolls to three parliamentary constituencies across two states and seven assembly constituencies across four states spelt bad news for India’s Opposition parties while cementing the stature of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) as the central pole of Indian politics.
The results of the seven assembly bypolls were largely in keeping with expectations, with the ruling party in the particular state emerging the winner. In Andhra Pradesh, Jharkhand and Delhi, the ruling party won the assembly seat on offer and in Tripura, the incumbent BJP won three of the four seats that went to the polls, with the other going to a popular Congress candidate. Once again, despite putting in considerable effort and money, the Trinamool Congress failed to make any breakthrough in the northeastern state.
But the results of the three parliamentary polls threw up surprises. In Uttar Pradesh, the BJP trounced the Samajwadi Party (SP) in its pocket boroughs of Azamgarh and Raipur and in Punjab, veteran Panthic leader Simranjit Singh Mann snatched the Sangrur seat away from the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP).
To be sure, in UP, the BJP won a historic majority just three months ago but the twin victories on Sunday hold significance because Azamgarh was represented by SP chief Akhilesh Yadav, and his father Mulayam Singh Yadav before him. It is a seat the family didn’t lose during the 2014 and 2019 general election even as it was routed across the state. For the party to suffer a defeat in a seat it won by 250,000 votes in 2019 is a significant setback. It may blame the Bahujan Samaj Party, which polled close to a third of the votes cast, but the lacklustre SP campaign indicated that the party had thought victory was assured its pocket borough – a costly mistake in an era where Opposition parties have to be alert to the aggression of the BJP in every electoral outing.
In Rampur, too, the perceived alienation of senior leader Azam Khan, who held the seat, appeared to have contributed to the party’s loss in a seat it won by more than 100,000 votes in 2019. Mr Khan, who was in jail on corruption charges till he recently made bail, has scotched speculation of his growing differences with Mr Yadav but the results made it clear that the SP’s candidate failed to gain popular acceptance.
But the biggest surprise of the day came from the city of Sangrur in Punjab where little fancied Mr Mann managed to snag chief minister (CM) Bhagwant Mann’s seat, and defeat AAP in the CM’s own assembly constituency. The shock defeat is a wake-up call for the ruling party that swept to power in March but has since been bogged down in law and order problems, and a reminder that in Indian politics, no election, howsoever small, can be taken for granted.
The 14th summit of BRICS countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa) was hosted by President Xi Jinping virtually on June 23. A high-level dialogue on global development, involving BRICS leaders and those from 13 like-minded countries, followed the next day. These meetings represented an important development in global politics amid the ongoing Russia-Ukraine war and evolving dynamics in the Indo-Pacific. The meaning of the Beijing-hosted deliberations must be deciphered using a realistic lens, and one that looks through the verbosity to the core of the 7,500-word-long Beijing Declaration. The rhetoric and reality of the grouping’s solidarity and divisiveness should be dissected objectively.
BRICS was created in 2006, the product of an era of unipolarity presided over by the lone superpower, the United States (US). A successful attempt by this grouping to project a non-western perspective on world affairs was valuable to the developing world. Slowly the organisation grew, forging intra-BRICS cooperation under the three pillars of politics and security, economic and financial, and cultural and people-to-people exchanges. It played a leading role in articulating the case for multipolarity as well as reformed multilateralism.
But all this was before Galwan, Covid-19, and Ukraine happened. Of these developments, the first seriously dented China-India ties and trust; the second revealed the grouping’s failure to work together to assist the needy; and the third turned Russia, a senior member, into damaged goods. The weakening of the grouping and the loss of its credibility became inevitable.
No one is more aware of this unspoken reality than the current chair, China. It explains why Beijing employed new devices, partly to distract attention from the grouping’s vulnerabilities and partly to inject fresh energy into it. The Beijing summit was anchored in a grandiose theme: “Foster High-quality BRICS Partnership, Usher in a New Era for Global Development”. The first objective was sought through a special focus on improving global governance. The summit leaders used eight adjectives — “more responsive, effective, transparent, democratic, objective, action-oriented, solution-oriented and credible” — to depict the kind of multilateral organisations needed by the world. It assumed a system that respects the sovereignty and territorial integrity of all countries. Surely Ukraine and India won’t agree that the BRICS community is heading in that direction.
The other objective for a new era of development was sought by expediting the expansion of membership. The ostensible purpose is to democratise and diversify BRICS to enhance its weight and influence in international affairs. However, China’s attempt to play up the role of “Emerging Markets and Developing Countries (EMDCs)” is a thinly disguised measure to capture the leadership of the Global South. The other members, particularly IBSA partners — India, Brazil and South Africa — are uncomfortable with it.
Thus, the diplomatic tussle goes on between Beijing, backed by Moscow, which prefers an immediate expansion to include several nations of their choice and the other three members, which advocate a go-slow approach. The Beijing summit endorsed a consensus view that there is first “the need to clarify the guiding principles, standards, criteria and procedures” for the expansion process. It is time to tell China that every member holds a veto on new candidates. Perhaps the eventual outcome will be to admit five new members representing diverse regions, to which none of the existing members have objections.
The current conflict aside, BRICS has secured several notable gains in the past 16 years. The $100 billion-strong New Development Bank (NDB) has an impressive portfolio of 78 projects worth $29.3 billion and has recently admitted four new members — the United Arab Emirates, Bangladesh, Egypt and Uruguay. Other achievements include a $100 billion Contingent Reserve Arrangement, and an array of measures to strengthen internal cooperation in sectors, ranging from agriculture and rural development to science and technology innovation, and vocational education and capacity-building.
However, if the major members of BRICS are serious about truly strengthening the grouping, they should first do something practical. For example, Russia should consider commencing negotiations for a peace agreement with Ukraine, and China should work for an accord on disengagement and de-escalation in eastern Ladakh. The presence of over 100,000 armed troops in the India-China border region does not align with the flowery rhetoric about building BRICS solidarity.
From India’s perspective, BRICS is not only desirable but also essential. It helps New Delhi to assert its independence and strategic autonomy in foreign policymaking. The BRICS summit is followed immediately by the G-7 summit where Prime Minister Narendra Modi will participate in its outreach deliberations. His 270-word address at the BRICS summit was a signal in itself.
The BRICS leaders held forth on weighty themes such as reforming global governance, safeguarding peace and security, and promoting economic recovery. Whether they also attempted to internalise that the gap between their declarations and delivery is hurting the institution is unclear. For example, it is time China and Russia moved beyond their long-frozen position and declared full support for their IBSA partners to enter the UN Security Council as permanent members. BRICS needs to grasp the basic reality that its internal solidarity and mutual trust should first be enhanced before it can hope to improve the world.
And rhetoric alone will not do.
Rajiv Bhatia is distinguished fellow for Foreign Policy Studies, Gateway House and a former ambassador who writes regularly on the Quad and the Indo-Pacific affairsThe views expressed are personal
The recently concluded 12th ministerial meeting of the World Trade Organization (WTO) saw the adoption of a decision that waives certain provisions of the Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights agreement (2022 TRIPS waiver) to expedite the production and supply of Covid-19 vaccines.
This waiver — far from the one India and South Africa proposed — is restricted to Covid-19 vaccines and the underlying technology but does not cover diagnostics and therapeutics. Furthermore, it applies only to patents, not other intellectual property (IP) rights. Effectively, the decision waives the obligation imposed by Article 31(f) of the TRIPS agreement, which requires countries to ensure that products produced under a compulsory licence (CL) are predominantly for the domestic market.
Thus, eligible members, ie, all developing countries barring China, are now free to export Covid-19 vaccines to any developing country by producing them without the patent holder’s authorisation, such as by issuing a CL (unauthorised use). But bizarrely, the developed countries that have been at the forefront of developing and manufacturing Covid-19 vaccines cannot export these vaccines to developing countries under this waiver.
Notwithstanding the shallowness of the TRIPS waiver, the ball is now in the court of the developing countries, especially the original propagators of the waiver, to use the decision by incorporating it within their respective legal regimes. Specifically speaking about India, while the TRIPS waiver talks about a plethora of mechanisms for its implementation (such as issuing an executive order), amending relevant Indian laws such as the Patents Act, 1970, will give a robust foundation to the waiver. There is precedence for this. Parliament inserted Section 92A (which prescribes the issuance of CL for exporting patented pharmaceutical products to countries with insufficient or no manufacturing capacity) within the Patents Act in 2005 to implement the 2003 TRIPS waiver. Similarly, to implement the 2022 TRIPS waiver, separate provisions allowing the production of Covid-19 vaccines without the patent holder’s permission, like the issuance of CL, should be inserted within the Patents Act. These provisions, complementing the existing flexibilities in the Patents Act, can be divided into two parts.
First, although India has already vaccinated a large part of its population, it should include a provision, with all the relevant details, that allows for the unauthorised use of Covid-19 vaccine patents for domestic use following the 2022 TRIPS waiver. Second, and most importantly, India should introduce a provision, allowing the exportation of Covid-19 vaccines produced under unauthorised use, such as by issuing a CL, to all developing countries under the 2022 TRIPS waiver. It is of utmost importance for India to live up to its reputation as the pharmacy of the world. Section 92A cannot be used for the same, because it is restricted to countries that lack manufacturing capability, whereas the 2022 TRIPS waiver covers all developing countries irrespective of their manufacturing capability unless a developing country opts out of the system.
These amendments to the Patents Act will have the following advantages. First, it will demonstrate India’s resolve to help the developing world fight the pandemic. Second, it will cement India’s position as a leader of the developing world. Third, it will give India the moral legitimacy to push developed countries into including diagnostics and therapeutics in the waiver, as mandated by paragraph 7 of the 2022 TRIPS waiver. Although India has championed the TRIPS waiver since 2020, it barely used the flexibilities in the Patents Act domestically to overcome IP hindrances during the pandemic. Walking down the same path will mean abandoning the TRIPS waiver.
Prabhash Ranjan is a professor at the Jindal Global Law School. Praharsh Gour is a researcher working on the interplay between Trade, IP, and Public Health The views expressed are personal
The kind of fall from grace Maharashtra chief minister (CM) Uddhav Thackeray suffered recently will be remembered in a different light in Indian politics. Who would have guessed that Uddhav would be abandoned by his own Sainiks in the name of his father, Balasaheb Thackeray? How could a CM be so imprudent that his own warlords pulled the rug out from under his feet, and he was unprepared?
Personal loyalty is not the only consideration in this political saga. Shiv Sainiks, who grew up in Balasaheb Thackeray’s shadow, were unable to make compromises with the new situation. They were disturbed at the way two ministers were detained by the Enforcement Directorate and at many Members of the Legislative Assembly (MLAs) and ministers being scrutinised by the central authorities for their wrongdoings. If Uddhav had desired it, he could have brought back his former allies who had crossed the floor, much like Mamata Banerjee did.
He was unable to take action, maybe because of the wrongdoings of some of his colleagues, his failing health and his humble nature. Moreover, the Shiv Sainiks detested Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) leader Sharad Pawar’s overbearing influence on the government. They believed the compromising attitude was consuming their militant political approach, for which they had always been known.
Eknath Shinde and every rebel who supported him believed that their future was dark due to two factors: First, Uddhav’s ineffective leadership and political style, and second, dynasty. In 2019, Shinde had pondered running for CM. Balasaheb Thackeray had made up his mind not to take the position of CM when the Shiv Sena was given the chance to form the government for the first time in 1995. While maintaining his position as the party’s supremo, he sent Manohar Joshi to do this duty. Narayan Rane received this chance after Joshi. Shinde was thinking of himself as this series’ next episode.
The Shiv Sena was thought to have undergone a fundamental shift when Uddhav decided to run for CM. Then, some onlookers claimed Uddhav had made a mistake. How could a political autocrat rule like Balasaheb while being dependent on the NCP and Congress? When the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) started pushing him after the 2014 elections, a whisper was heard that Uddhav did not have the courage to take on the BJP. He was advised to run alone in the 2019 Lok Sabha polls, but the Matoshree troupe refrained from making such a bold choice. He also fought the subsequent assembly elections with the BJP. The outcomes were unexpected. The BJP got 105, and they got only 56 seats. It was evident that the Shiv Sena was no longer playing the role of bhau. When Uddhav left the alliance with the BJP, he could have avoided this situation if he had appointed Shinde or another Shiv Sainik as CM at that time. Instead of being under Pawar’s supervision, he would have been in charge. In politics, even small errors carry a lot of weight, but Uddhav made them repeatedly. Now, his position, party and prestige are all under immense threat.
A furious Shiv Sena is now threatening to fight on the streets, on the House floor, and in court. Its outspoken leader Sanjay Raut has threatened the MLAs that they have to come back to Mumbai, anyway. This metropolis has always been a stronghold of the Shiv Sena and it is believed that whatever the fellow leaders do, the workers are with Matoshree. Have Shinde and his allies got into this conflict unprepared? Shiv Sainiks have reacted angrily to his announcement to form a new party named for Balasaheb. Many offices of MLAs and ministers have also been vandalised in Maharashtra. Uddhav also emphasised that nobody can use his father’s name.
Clearly, certain chapters of Maharashtra’s political story remain to be written. Parties engaged in dynasty politics in this country have been experiencing a hard time for a while. Shinde and his associates may have found it upsetting that Uddhav stole Balasaheb’s legacy and that Aditya will be the next in line. So, what is there for him? Are family-run parties on their way out?
We will have to wait until the assembly elections in Gujarat and Himachal Pradesh to find out. There used to be a direct contest between the BJP and the Congress, but the Aam Aadmi Party is determined to change the equation this time. The way this party’s broom swept the Congress and the Akali Dal away in Punjab has caused many people to reconsider Arvind Kejriwal.
If Kejriwal wins a few seats, his ambitions of becoming a national figure will begin to take shape. Sooner or later, Maharashtra’s crisis will reach its logical conclusion. But another question has been raised in political circles: Is Jharkhand next? This debate has gained a lot of traction after Draupadi Murmu’s candidature for the post of President.
Shashi Shekhar is editor-in-chief, Hindustan The views expressed are personal
Wherever you look, countries are suffering – from the savage heat in India, fires in the United States (US), floods in Bangladesh, typhoons in Japan and droughts in Africa. Collectively we know we have a problem. What’s more we have a solution and a road map under the United Nations (UN) to tackle this crisis: What’s missing is political will from G20 leaders.
Humans emit nearly 60 billion tonnes of greenhouse gases, annually. In 2015, the world committed to cutting those to halt global temperature rises at 1.5°C. Getting on track means halving emissions this decade. It’s a big ask of 200 nations and nearly eight billion people. But we don’t need to focus on all 200; we can scale down to 20.
The G20 group of nations accounts for 80% of world GDP, three quarters of global trade, and nearly two-thirds of the planet’s population. It comprises 19 nations and the European Union. It accounts for 75% of global greenhouse gas emissions. Which means these 20 economies hold the key to success or failure of the Paris Agreement.
Our new report groups nations on where they stand on climate action. For India, a G20 member, we list it under the header “stallers” – countries that have not submitted new or updated emissions pledges.
No-one in India needs to be told climate impacts are becoming more intense and dangerous. Far less does anyone need to hear that from someone born, brought up and living in the United Kingdom (UK).
But India is not just on the frontline of rising temperatures and extreme weather. With a population of 1.4 billion people, the world’s fastest-growing economy, and 70% of power generated using coal, India is a major emitter. Although emissions per head of population are much lower than the North American and European nations, India is the third biggest annual emitter after China and the US.
India’s government clearly gets this. Prime Minister Narendra Modi was the only world leader to make a significant new promise at the last UN climate summit, COP26. He committed India to net zero emissions by 2070 – in line with the Paris Agreement – and half of all power from renewables by 2030. On top of this, Mumbai seeks to be net zero by 2050, and almost all new capacity added to India’s power grid in the last year was renewables.
There is financial support too, in recognition that India is still a developing economy and any target set is conditional on climate finance. Before COP26, the UK agreed a package worth $1.2 billion; more recently, Germany pledged “at least” €10 billion through a partnership for green and sustainable development. Certainly more is also needed.
But there is not yet a target – no official commitment. India has not yet formalised Prime Minister Modi’s Glasgow promise into a “nationally determined contribution” – a pledge to the United Nations for what India will achieve by 2030. Nor is there a long-term strategy for achieving net zero; another requirement in the UN climate treaty.
Tackling the climate crisis needs all G20 nations to step up, make bold commitments, and get on with implementing them. Most of the G20 nations are categorised in our report as “implementation needed”. Making the promise is only the first step. Getting the promised job done, as quickly as possible, is crucial if we are to keep warming to 1.5°C and avoid even worse, and worsening, loss and damage from climate change.
India is yet to deliver that first step – the NDC itself. It will require bold action both to maintain the scale of renewables deployment, and to phase down and ultimately bring to an end India’s reliance on coal. But that shift will clean the air Indians breathe, provide greater resilience and security, and fuel India’s economic growth.
With India 7% of annual global emissions, it is also a crucial part of the job ahead for the G20 – a grouping India will chair next year – in the six months left before COP27.
Gareth Redmond-King is the International lead at Energy & Climate Intelligence Unit.
The views expressed are personal
In one fell swoop, the United States Supreme Court has trampled decisively upon a woman’s constitutional right to an abortion. The court’s 6-3 conservative majority allowed it to take a decision that is as political as it is judicial. In overturning the 1973 Roe versus Wade ruling that had led to more equality and more freedom to millions of Americans, the court has disregarded precedent as well as overwhelming public opinion and has rightly been lambasted for it by President Joe Biden as well as heads of several other western countries.
A highly-polarised United States is being pushed into a virtual civil war over abortion as 26 of the 50 states are making moves to limit access to abortion or ban it altogether. The right that the 1973 ruling entitling women to an abortion during the first three months of their pregnancy while allowing some legal restrictions in the second and third trimesters has just been taken away. This immediately spawns fears over illegal “backstreet” abortions endangering the lives of to-be mothers too while women in Republican states may have to live in dread of being prosecuted for choosing to abort in states where it would still be allowed.
After first saying somewhat coyly that it was “God’s decision”, Donald Trump has been heard crowing about the snatching of a right to dignity and the autonomy of a woman to decide what happens to their bodies. And Mr Trump must feel entitled to boast about it as he is the architect of such a decision after succeeding in appointing three new judges to the top court of a hard right disposition like his.
No guesses are needed as to how tempted populist and authoritarian regimes around the world may feel about following suit, if only to enjoy greater power over half the population. A world that looks up to America at least for such things as personal freedoms and gender equality might get very different ideas as the court decision reverberates far beyond the US, which till now was one of 56 countries where abortion was legal at a woman’s request.
Prominent parts of the world have managed to elevate human rights to acceptably modern levels in granting the right to abortion, a common belief among them being that a woman and not the State or lawmakers should have the legal right to decide on ending a pregnancy. How blatantly political the US ruling is can be gleaned from the current makeup of the court that dabbled in constitutional issues that were decided upon nearly 50 years ago.
In India where abortions have been legal since 1971 and where women have been given free access to legal abortion clinics, fears may abound only in the matter of gender preference, like parents being known to favour male children and abortions being slanted because of this. The planting of any regressive ideas after the establishment of a hard-won right of choice for women is, however, not should not be allowed in a country where women have had equal rights in most aspects of life.
The US, which has come down a notch in everyone’s estimation after the overturning of Roe vs Wade and Planned Parenthood vs Casey, will be paying the price for this, maybe for decades to come as abortion is criminalised in more than half the country. A beacon of freedom has been dulled because it will throw Americans into a political and legal struggle over abortion laws.
Earlier this month the chairman of Sri Lanka’s Ceylon Electricity Board informed the country’s parliamentary committee on public enterprises (COPE) that a contract had been awarded to an Indian business group, the Adani Group, for a renewable energy project without competitive bidding and that this was done under political pressure. The Sri Lankan Opposition party, Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB), accused President Gotabaya Rajapaksa of “pampering [Indian Prime Minister Narendra] Modi’s notorious friends” and the President tweeted back “categorically denying” all such allegations.
While the electricity board chairman subsequently recanted and said he had misspoken, having become too emotional, all the available evidence suggests that the project was indeed awarded to the Adanis at the behest of the Indian government.
This is not the first time that the Adani Group has been caught in a controversy. In Sri Lanka itself it had earlier been charged with securing Colombo’s West Container Port terminal without competitive bidding. Whatever the facts, such corporate controversies overseas do not easily die away, and the Adani Group is not the first Indian business group to get into the political crosshairs in a neighbouring country.
Some years ago the venerable Tata Group was involved in a brouhaha of a different kind in Bangladesh. Caught between pro and anti-India politics in the country, the Tatas had to put on hold plans to invest as much as $3 billion in steel, fertiliser, power and other infrastructure projects. To be fair, there were no accusations of cronyism dogging the Tata Group in Bangladesh, unlike the Adani imbroglio in Sri Lanka. If there is anything common to both situations, it is the challenge of an Indian company getting caught in the crossfire of domestic politics in a foreign land.
It is not often that Indian companies get caught in such political crossfires overseas. Most overseas operations of Indian companies, even of the big ones, are not big enough to attract political attention in the host countries, especially in developed Western markets. Corporate controversies in distant developing countries do not make waves in the Indian media. Consequently, if an Indian firm gets into political problems in an African or a Latin American country, or even in Eastern Europe, the news does not always travel back home.
India’s immediate neighbourhood presents an altogether different context. India’s size within its neighbourhood creates a geopolitical context that bedevils Indian firms. Consider, for example, the dramatic exit of the GMR Group from the Maldives, after it was awarded a $500 million contract to operate the Ibrahim Nasir International Airport on Hulhule Island, near Male. The award was given by the government of Mohamed Nasheed and promptly annulled by a rival political group that deposed Mr Nasheed in a coup.
There have been less dramatic and less visible problems for Indian firms in other neighbouring countries. In Nepal, the Dabur Group has been repeatedly accused of selling adulterated soft drinks. The local authorities seized thousands of cartons of Dabur’s Real juice. The Nepali media reported that the government’s Commission for Investigation of Abuse of Authority (CIAA) had raided Dabur Nepal’s unit in Bara district and sealed juice cartons for allegedly altering the date of manufacture. In this instance too, Dabur’s senior executives blamed the local political elements for targeting them as part of an anti-India tirade.
Further afield, in South Africa, an Indian-origin business group, the Gupta family, has had its members arrested due to accusations of business malpractice and cronyism, but there too there is a political and diplomatic edge to the case. More recently, Indian businesses have faced a consumer boycott in the Gulf region due to the recent controversy over the alleged anti-Islam remarks of an Indian political activist.
These incidents draw attention to the political risk of overseas business in general, and of doing business in India’s neighbourhood in particular. There is no doubt that in each of the South Asian cases, an element of anti-India, and perhaps pro-China, sentiment played its part. The two Asian giants cast a long shadow in the region. The anti-India sentiment gets bigger play when political elements are able to point to evidence of cronyism.
All this points to the need for the Indian business community to have a better understanding of the link between business, geopolitics and host country political risk. Globalised Indian business must factor in the political and diplomatic risk of doing business in countries where India is or likely to be the target of domestic politics. At one point Mukesh Ambani had a global advisory council with a retired American diplomat, a head of a British think tank and a former Japanese minister as its members. Business persons like JSW’s Sajjan Jindal have episodically invested in securing a better understanding of the politics of countries in which he has had business interests.
Several multinational firms invest in seeking or retaining professional political and economic expertise on countries in which they invest and, more widely, on global and regional geopolitical and geo-economic issues that might impact their businesses. Similarly, Indian businesses foraying overseas must also remain alive to domestic politics in the host country, relations between home and host countries and wider regional geopolitical issues that are likely to impact business.
The lazy option for many Indian companies has been to depend on serving or retired Indian diplomats for advice and help in getting out of tricky situations. Most professional diplomats steer clear of such involvement to avoid getting into sticky situations. Several diplomats and officials have often complained that Indian companies approach them too late in the day when in trouble and that stepping in to help may then raise the eyebrows of superiors.
Of course, not all diplomats are so finicky about their professional conduct and willingly double up as advisers to influential business leaders in the name of economic diplomacy. Till a couple of decades ago, few diplomats would run the risk of getting too close to Indian business overseas for fear of attracting negative attention at home. More recently, as the lines between politics, business, government and diplomacy get increasingly blurred, more diplomats and officials are willing to go the extra mile for Indian companies, till a scam hits the headlines.
The decision of the GST Council to extend the period for imposing a levy on certain goods to compensate the states for their loss in tax revenue on the implementation of GST regime, and the Union government’s notification amending the relevant rules last week to give effect to the decision, have come as a great relief for several states which find themselves in dire financial position.
The amended Goods and Services Tax (Period of Levy and Collection of Cess) rules, 2022, would now allow the Union government to collect the cess on luxury and demerit goods till March 2026. The levy was brought in to bridge the shortfall in revenue for the states once the national wide tax regime was introduced, and was to end in June 2022 when it completes five years.
The extension is expected to help both the Union and the state governments. As for the former, the levy will help repay the borrowings it had made to compensate the states in the Covid-affected 2020-21 and 2021-22. While some of the states may not be eligible for the compensation as their revenues have grown and show no shortfall, there are others who desperately need it. The industry may object to the continuation of the cess but the measure could help the governments steady their finances, and is hence welcome.
The Union government should not see it as a favour to the states. In fact, the former has a duty to see that the GST regime works well for everyone, realising that the states which have very little sources other than the GST as they have foregone their power on taxation for a larger common good.
The attitude of the Union finance ministry during the past years, however, does not inspire confidence as it defaulted on the payments to the states. It should make the states feel that they are active partners in economic growth and that everyone stands to benefit when the pie becomes large.