Opinion India@75, Looking@100: On the road to 2047, the state of our democracy cannot be a distant concern

In the 75 years of independence, the class that has gained the most from relatively high-quality public education, work opportunities and steady careers is the urban upper middle class. For those born between the mid 1950s and the 1970s in urban middle and upper class families, India’s democracy afforded many opportunities, often at the cost of denying similar opportunities to others. Yet, now that the nation’s public institutions and culture are increasingly marked by strident Hindu nationalism and calls for majoritarianism, cultural uniformity, exclusivism, and violence, the voice and agency of those who have benefitted the most from a larger democratic culture are missing. Every public event of violence, every act that transgresses and defies norms of democracy evokes, at best, a flurry of online petitions and little or no concerted and prolonged public protest. The anti-CAA demonstrations across the country held the possibility of mass protests emerging to reclaim democracy but were thwarted by both Covid-19 and the put-down in Delhi. Since then, a deep resignation seems to have set in among the urban, upper classes. Meetings, discussions, protests, and work to reclaim democracy are now largely run or attended by a small number of young people in their late 20s to 30s and a sprinkling of persons past their 60s — mostly old-time progressive individuals. Missing in their presence and contribution are those in their 40s to early 60s.

One can only speculate as to what accounts for this silence and absence among this cohort that has benefitted the most from a democratic system which treated them as its flag bearers. By providing high salaries that make government pay as competitive as that of the private sector, the Sixth and Seventh Pay Commissions ushered in an aspirational economy in which consumerism has become a hallmark. Preoccupied with lifestyle demands, the middle and upper class cannot devote time to public causes — even those that impact their own everyday lives. As one lecturer from an elite Delhi college told me, faculty are now more interested in the latest cars, housing schemes and international scholarships for their children than issues of public concern. Such growing indifference accounts for the fact that the outrage and anger for the victim at Hathras or the injustice meted out to Bilkis Bano was not the same as that which met the December 2012 Delhi rape case. Draconian actions against well-known activists, especially from the Elgar Parishad case, are cited as invoking fear and insecurity and therefore, being the reason for their disengagement. Yet, conversations indicate a failure to know details about issues, inability to lend support in specific ways, and hesitation to take positions on issues.

A young man who quit his high-paying job elaborated how prioritising career interests over basic norms of democracy and humanitarianism have led many to be co-opted by the system. Even as high networth individuals (HNIs) seek to leave the country by either purchasing citizenship or residency in other countries, the upper middle class is working hard to ensure that their children make their lives elsewhere. Striving for democracy then becomes a distant concern. Silence and complacency seem to have also been bought by the assurance of a booming stock market and of the ability of many to have earnings without the responsibilities of being employed.

Yet, such economic freedom has not made for an ability to be engaged but has become a barometer used to forgive the many failures of the government. Labels such as “activist” are used to describe those who engage in or seek to contribute to public issues and there is a distancing from such persons and organisations. Being “political” is made synonymous with party activities and there is a failure to realise that being political means understanding the many dimensions of power and its uses and abuses. Even as our society and nation lurch towards a future in which even the rudimentary semblances of democracy and decency are defied, we are increasingly witness to a shrinking support base of persons who can struggle and assert the need for these indispensable norms.

Now, after 75 years of independence, we must ponder how many of the freedoms that at least some of us have enjoyed will be available as the nation marks a centenary of “freedom” in 2047. In the short but poignant biography Why I am not a Silent Spectator, the late Father Stan Swamy, the most heroic victim of the draconian UAPA law, notes that our time is one where “truth has become so bitter, dissent so intolerable, and justice so out of reach”. Whether we will continue to be our silenced selves despite these ominous trends is up to us and to our conscience.

The writer is a social anthropologist. This article is part of an ongoing series, which began on August 15, by women who have made a mark, across sectors