Opinion Inequality, polarising politics and neoliberal policies: Lessons for India from America’s decline
It is hard to feel unified when people have differing visions for the country. In my view, the unravelling began when the US embraced privatisation, deregulation, globalisation, leading to the gutting of the manufacturing sector, rendering working classes disposable
Former U.S. President Donald Trump stands with Kai Trump, Donald Trump III, Spencer Trump and Chloe Trump on Day 3 of the Republican National Convention (RNC), at the Fiserv Forum in Milwaukee. (Reuters) The attempted assassination of Donald Trump has triggered a wave of soul-searching about how the US could have found itself on the brink of the unthinkable. Violence is no stranger to the US, a country founded upon the genocide of hundreds of Indigenous nations, which enslaved millions of Africans, is the most militarised and has waged war in more nations than any other in history. The private ownership of guns, enshrined as a fundamental right of citizens in the US constitution, contributes to one of the highest homicide rates in the world and the most tragic of American cataclysms, school shootings. Trump is now the 12th American president to be the target of an assassination attempt — four of those attacked, died. To be sure, America’s exceptionalism is epitomised by her inseparable embrace of violence, meted out with varying justifications across history, rationalisations which can invoke the Bible, racial or political ideology, or simply national security. As such, there is nothing un-American about the attempted assassination of America’s 45th President. As the saying goes, the crows have come home to roost.
That being said, there is the inescapable realisation that the shooting cannot be unrelated to the polarisation which has engulfed contemporary American society, a division of her diverse peoples, arguably her greatest asset, which has intensified inexorably as her reckoning with destiny in November draws closer. The polarisation is, at its heart, about profoundly differing visions for the country. It is hard to feel, and behave, like one people in such circumstances and solidarity, that invisible glue which binds people together, begins to unravel. In my view, such an unravelling began when the US embraced neoliberal economic policies, emphasising market-based reforms and policies, including privatisation, deregulation, globalisation, and reductions in government spending, as the key to realising individual liberty. The adoption of these policies had profound consequences for the social fabric of American society, with a dramatic increase in inequality and the gutting of a once-great manufacturing sector, rendering the working classes disposable. These consequences have systematically dismantled the solidarity built upon the foundations of the social welfare state and the civil rights movements initiated by President Franklin D Roosevelt’s New Deal in the 1930s.
There is now a rich vein of scholarship from diverse disciplines which has documented the impact of rising inequality on the fabric of society and, ultimately, the well-being of its people. All these inquiries conclude that inequality deeply fractures the essential bonds that tie people who share the same land, hardening the boundaries that divide one group from another, and amplifying deeply entrenched prejudices about those who do not share one’s own identity. In short, inequality leads to a dystopia in which each individual cares only for themselves and those they identify with — to hell with everyone else. A hellscape where the majority of the population struggles to survive with insecure incomes and opportunities while a minority enjoy unimaginable wealth and power.
Such a dystopia presents a fertile soil to plant the seeds of hate, against those whose ideologies differ from yours or, at the crudest level, those who look, speak or dress differently from yourself. As one group feels less valued and less well-off compared to the other and the feelings of shared identity and destinies erode, the narrative of the other group stealing your country grips your imagination. Add Trump’s incendiary rhetoric to this tinder and you have the perfect firestorm.
It is worth pondering whether any of these observations have a bearing on India. Obviously, there are enormous differences between these two countries. Curiously, though, there are some parallels too, which should make us pause and think about the crisis in the US. After all, India also has a long history of violence based on identity and othering, not least in relation to the caste system and patriarchy, and is herself no stranger to political violence. The past four decades have witnessed a full-throated embrace of neoliberal economic policies to the point that India has emerged as one of the most unequal countries in the world, the grotesqueness of which was vividly on display with the opulent year-long festivities marking a wedding in the country’s richest family juxtaposed with government statistics revealing that India is home to the largest number of malnourished children in the world.
Add to this potent brew the political rhetoric championing an exclusionary view of the identity of the people of India, which seamlessly blends with the dehumanisation of and acts of violence against minorities while the law enforcement agencies turn a blind eye or even play a supportive role, and you have all the ingredients for a dystopic society. While we can be thankful that Indian society is not awash with guns, this is hardly a consolation for those lynched by knives or bare hands or who have been rendered homeless by government bulldozers. What is most chilling about these incidents is the message they send out to those who are already enraged by their hopelessness, offering a defenceless othered group on whom to vent their fury, in the knowledge that they can do so without fear of retribution.
Trump blamed gun violence on mental health and social disorder. He is, characteristically, both wrong and right. It is guns which kill, not persons with mental health problems. But he is right to point out that social disorder kills too; the mounting “deaths of despair”, fuelled by drugs, alcohol and suicide, are testimony to the deadly effects of the dystopia on the forgotten white working class of the country. Despair not only fuels hopelessness but also rage, perhaps the most damaging of all emotional experiences, which has been mutating across the country in tandem with ideological polarisation. But it is inequality which is the critical bedrock for polarisation to flourish, for it is hard to divide and inflame people when there is solidarity built around a shared destiny and identity. It is not coincidental that the happiest nations of the world are also the most equal; India ranks alongside the unhappiest countries of all while the US similarly ranks lowest among its peers; both countries also endure the highest suicide rates in the world.
There are clear prescriptions on how to build more equal societies through government commitments to a decent minimum wage, progressive taxation and public health care and education. Strong democratic institutions, especially the courts and police who hold anyone who breaks the law accountable, no matter how powerful they might be, are key to building trust and solidarity. But words matter too, especially in the world of social media where they can get amplified at lightning speed. It is time, as both US presidential candidates have acknowledged, to dial down the hateful language. And this must also be a signal to India’s politicians, and other public leaders, to replace words of hate with those of solidarity and compassion, to heal our fractured societies.
The writer is the Paul Farmer Professor of Global Health at Harvard Medical School