The teflon generation

In this year’s budget, a princely sum of Rs 98.25 crore is set aside for the following requirements (hold your breath): hospitals and dispensaries, health education, health intelligence, prevention of food adulteration, drug standard control organisation, drug de-addiction programme, pilot projects on diabetes control programme, prevention of deafness and hearing impairments, oral health programme, programme against micronutrient malnutrition, programme on medical rehabilitation, cardio-vascular diseases control programme, health sector disaster preparedness and management, environmental health and risk assessment, national programme for control and treatment of occupational diseases, medical care for remote and marginalised tribal and nomadic communities and assistance to states for capacity building. Phew. Some tallorder this, to be able to stretch Rs 98.25 crores to encompass this entire gamut — we are talking here of an entire country, not just a town or city. Wonder how much of it will actually go toward alleviating the maladies that visit our “marginalised tribal and nomadic communities”?

It is just such sleight-of-hand political economy that has led to India becoming one of the most inequal societies in the world. What’s more tragic than the mere existence of such inequality, is the widespread acceptance of it, the large-scale indifference to it. But gross disparities do not disappear by the mere act of shutting one’s eyes to them. They have their own dynamics, and can erupt in bloody carnage like Bihar’s Jehanabad district witnessed recently, or caste riots that occur from time to time in southern Tamil Nadu or in persistent and sometimes bloody demands for regional autonomy and statehood, like the Uttarakhand struggle revealed.

Addressing disparities of all kinds within Indian society then becomes apolitical, if not a social, imperative. It’s fascinating, this tut-tutting that’s currently going on about the social “backwardness” of Bihar. Usually forgotten, the political battle for the state has suddenly rendered it suitable table conversation. The fact is that Bihar has long been a zone where poverty is endemic. Its mineral wealth has been extracted to the detriment of its environment and its local communities. Its social order has been dominated by a vicious landed elite that has been unrelenting in its oppression. But once the current political excitement over it dies down, Bihar will once again be relegated to the back of the nation’s mind.

Mapping the `Bharat’ in our midst is a complex task. In a recent paper, `Diversity and Disparities in Human Development — Key Challenges for India’, based on data from the 1991 census and other sources, the UNDP made a tentative attempt to do this.

What emerges is significant. For instance, take the difference between the poorest and richest states in thecountry. Bihar registered the lowest NSDP (per capita net state domestic product) level and Punjab, the highest. This gap is a constantly widening one — the difference in per capita incomes between Punjab and Bihar has increased from 3.3 times in 1980-94 to 3.78 times in 1990-94. Disparities manifest themselves in other aspects of life too. While it will take Maharashtra 39 years to achieve universal literacy, Bihar would need 97 years to do so. Orissa has the lowest number of doctors per capita, while Punjab is 12 times better off. About half of rural Orissa has no access to drinking water while most people in rural Punjab are more fortunate.

It should surprise no one that the rural-urban divide remains as intractable as ever. While 31 per cent of the urban population lived below the poverty line, in rural India it was 40 per cent.

There are certain chronically backward regions of the country that seem impervious to change. While some, like the hills of UP or the drought-prone Rayalseema district ofAndhra Pradesh, are prisoners to their geography, others seem to have been laid low by a combination of topography, oppressive social practices and poor governance. Almost all the 14 most backward districts in the country fall along a horizontal axis that stretches from Dolpur in Rajasthan to Hardoi in UP. Except for five, all of them have a sex ratio of less than 850 females per 1000 males.

The neglected slums of our larger cities also remain largely forgotten. In Ahmedabad, to take one example, 25 per cent of the city’s population consumes 90 per cent of the available water. Infant mortality rates in slum areas are sometimes even eight times higher than that in the rest of the city.

Disparities, then, exist at many levels. Inequalities along gender lines occur within the family and put their stamp on social relations. Deprivations along caste and class lines occur within communities and, by extension, impinge upon society as a whole. Within a city, you have the classic disparities between the affluentpockets and the slums; while at the level of the state, there is the urban-rural divide. Finally, at a pan-Indian level you have the marked differences between the poverty-stricken regions of the country and the more prosperous pockets.

The UNDP’s number-crunching exercise revealed three significant trends. First, resource allocations, especially in the case of the chronically poor states, reveal a sharp decrease in development expenditure. Two, additional central assistance for externally-aided projects tended to favour the states that are better off. Three, without resources being allocated in a fair and informed manner, private flows of investment were likely to exacerbate existing disparities rather than remove them.

There can be no significant development if disparity is not addressed, if `Bharat’ is not brought back into the picture. Because, ultimately, `India’ cannot exist without `Bharat’.