Chanakya's New Manifesto: To Resolve the Crisis Within India by Pavan K. Varma Read Free Book Online Page A

has steadily lost its appeal for voters. The BJP actually failed to get a simple majority in the elections in U.P. in 1996, and has since ceased to be the single largest party in the state. Similarly, in spite of the unpardonable violence against Muslims in 2002 in Gujarat on Narendra Modi’s watch, there have been no incidents of communal violence in that state since. In neighbouring Maharashtra, the 1993 bomb blasts in Mumbai sparked off a frenzy of religious rioting. A decade later, when terrorists set off another round of destructive explosions, there were no riots. In fact, Muslims and Hindus stood side by side in queues to donate blood for the injured. And, remarkably, the very next day it was business as usual for the financial capital of India.
    It is a tribute to the firm stand taken by the country’s leaders in 1947 that by now, the great majority of Hindus and Muslims have a pretty shrewd idea of any political attempt to divide them on religious lines. They have realized, too, that it is in their self-interest to swim away from the islands of religious exclusiveness inhabited by mullahs and mahants, towards the mainland of greater secular opportunities. Gradually, but definitively, identity in India is being defined not by notions of belonging to a majority or minority community, but by instances of individual success or failure. For instance, Azim Premji is admired not because he is a Muslim but because he is among the richest and most forward-thinking business tycoons in the country. Again, the Muslim identity of A. P. J. Abdul Kalam, the former president was subsumed by the stature he gained for his work in space technology and missile defence. Given the nature of our multi-religious country, this progressive reduction in the role of religion in the national discourse, is no mean achievement.
    The fourth legacy of 1947 is the success of a conscious policy of affirmative action. Once again, this often disputed—or unfairly denigrated—achievement was a direct consequence of the ideology of our freedom movement, where Gandhiji made the social emancipation of the traditionally oppressed ‘lower’ castes a fundamental sine qua non of freedom itself. The goal, thus, was not only political independence, but the creation of a more equal society whose weakest sections could become progressively empowered. From the very beginning, therefore, our Constitution implemented one of the most advanced systems of affirmative action ever seen anywhere in the world. It stipulated that almost a quarter (22.5 per cent) of government jobs be reserved for those at the lowest rung of the social ladder—the Scheduled Castes (SCs) and Scheduled Tribes (STs)—who also constituted the largest number of the poorest.
    Today we take this seminal step for granted, and the terms ‘SC’ and ‘ST’ have become part of our vocabulary, but it is useful to remember how significant the impact of this policy decision has been. In 1965, the percentage of SCs and STs in the higher echelons of government service was 4.5 per cent; by 1995 it had risen to 22.8 per cent. The reservation of seats in Parliament and the state legislatures has also yielded significant results. Of the 544 seats in the Lok Sabha, 106 are reserved, but representation is even higher because—and this is the important point—many members of this group are now strong enough to win elections from unreserved constituencies.
    In August 1990, Prime Minister V. P. Singh, heading a shaky coalition government, sought to strengthen his political base by announcing that 27 per cent of all central government jobs would be additionally reserved for Other Backward Classes (OBCs)—intermediate castes with a mostly rural background. The upper castes denounced the move, convinced that the entire policy of reservations was wrong. The Dalits felt that the OBCs were undeservedly eating into their quota, even as that quota was being hijacked by a ‘creamy layer’ within their own group.