Politics
And The Rule Of Law
By Ajay K. Mehra
The Hindu
21 May, 2003
The present politics of the
trishul (trident), talwar (sword) and lathi (baton) is a manifestation
of the heightening of sectarian and caste politics since the mid-1980s.
While resorting to the politics of aggressive Hindutva since the mid-1980s,
the BJP adopted the Vishwa Hindu Parishad's Ayodhya campaign, thus enlarging
the Sangh Parivar with the addition of organisations such as the VHP
and the Bajrang Dal. In retrospect, with the Parivar since then becoming
large and unwieldy, the lumpenisation of the politics of Hindutva has
naturally followed.
On the other hand, V.P. Singh's
failed Mandal route to political consolidation in 1990, which continues
with the Janata Dal variants such as the Samajwadi Party and the Rashtriya
Janata Dal, as well as the emergence and consolidation of the Bahujan
Samaj Party, have given a new rationale and strength to aggressive caste
politics, which has in any case remained the basis of electoral politics
in India since Independence.
The VHP's dangerous "trishul
diksha" campaign, with the disconcerting acquiescence of the BJP,
and equally strange reactions from Amar Singh of the SP and the RJD
supremo, Laloo Prasad Yadav, show that the trishul, talwar and lathi
have unfortunately emerged as bizarre symbols in Indian politics and
queer tools of ethnic mobilisation in an atmosphere of highly competitive
party politics in the first decade of the 21st century. Even more dangerous
is the news that the VHP has decided to impart firearms training to
youth.
The issue deserves a dispassionate
discussion and introspective reflection of every section of society
because their emergence as symbols of ethnic or religious assertion
and identity corrodes the pre-eminent position that the rule of law
an essential ingredient of liberal democracy should have
in our country. Indeed, during the past three decades, the increasing
competitiveness in Indian politics has trampled upon the rule of law
time and again. This trend has intensified since the 1990s, because
most parties, both regional and national, are playing the dual role
of ruling and Opposition parties in one context or the other. Each has
the political compulsion of guarding its own turf while poaching on
the other's turf. This is leading to a double-flanked attack on the
rule of law, because wherever in power, the attempt is to manipulate
the legal instruments and enforcement agencies not only to one's political
advantage, but also to disadvantage the adversary. Both the examples
can be seen currently in Uttar Pradesh.
The size and the dimension
of the trishul being used for the VHP's campaign, may have been kept
within the proscribed limit of the Arms Act, but the selection of the
weapon and the design of the campaign as expressions of assertive majority
Hindu militancy against the minorities might take the communal tensions
beyond Gujarat to other parts of the country. Considering that in Madhya
Pradesh, Orissa and, of course, Gujarat, where the ambers of last year's
pogrom are still smouldering, the Christians and the Muslims have been
on the receiving end of the Hindutva violence, even if seemingly inoffensive
in ingredient and make, the trishul is being brandished as a symbol
of collective majority violence against the minorities. That the ruling
coalition at the Centre is closing its eyes to it and the BJP is defending
it as a symbol of cultural nationalism, is creating highly dangerous
portents for Indian democracy, as it is putting the institutions of
governance and enforcement (the bureaucracy, the police and the Judiciary),
already weak and ailing, under severe pressure.
The responses from Mr. Amar
Singh and Mr. Laloo Yadav to the Parivar's queer moves are no less strange.
Brandishing of swords and rallying with lathis are as offensive to the
rule of law and democratic culture as the philosophy behind the trishul
diksha. Strangely, defying all the logic of democratic culture, brandishing
of a sword by leaders of all parties in public meetings has virtually
become a norm lately so much so that even the Union Human Resource Development
Minister, who should ideally be waving a pen, proudly photographed himself
with a sword in a meeting some time back.
The question is: whom are
these symbolic weapons, of cultural nationalism if you please, being
brandished against? Though based on the rule of the majority, the liberal
democratic culture neither supports an aggressive suppression of the
minorities, nor does it propagate violently provocative postures by
political parties against communities and against each other. The pertinent
question is: how will the Indian state and its agencies practice the
rule of law, ensuring equality before law and equal protection of law
to the citizens, if the wielders of state power (the opposition included)
demonstrate naked aggression and promote a violent political culture?
The rule of law guarantees individual and communitarian rights which
lie at the core of democracy. Democracy includes institutions and processes
that, although beyond the immediate domain of the legal system, are
rooted in it.
In fact, while these latest
brazen and aggressive manifestations of power and their impact on the
Indian democratic culture deserve reflection, we must also remind ourselves
that the power play in Indian politics for at least two decades, if
not more, has thumbed its nose at the rule of law, if not violated its
spirit. Deliberately distorted interpretations of law for political
expediency and political moves aimed at confusing law-enforcement have
made a mockery of the legal and constitutional systems in our country.
The controversies related to the selective (mis)use of POTA in Jharkhand,
Gujarat, Tamil Nadu and Uttar Pradesh too are examples of the stresses
created for the legal system in the country. The criminalisation of
politics as well as the selective use of law of which the Raja Bhaiya
and the Samajwadi Party episodes in Uttar Pradesh are the latest examples,
have weakened the legal system and created an ambivalence for the institutions
of enforcement, be it the lower Judiciary, or the police. The proposed
training in firearms to the VHP youth, for example, is in violation
of Sections 153, 153(A) and 505 of the Indian Penal Code, yet the Gujarat
Police remained mute spectators to such functions in the State. The
Rajasthan Chief Minister, Ashok Gehlot, may have won kudos for arresting
Praveen Togadia in his State, but the district and sessions judge in
Jodhpur while releasing the VHP activists on bail ruled that the trishul
could neither be described as a weapon of offence nor of defence. Certainly,
the judgment cannot be questioned, but the ruling shows that interpretations
are open to convenient partisan justifications.
Mr. Gehlot's courage should
not mislead us from the Congress' role in the existing atmosphere of
partisanship. While Sheila Dixit may have objected to this programme
in Delhi, she could not have taken any action in the absence of an access
to the law and order machinery. The BJP-ruled States, with Gujarat showing
the way, are, of course, facilitating these unlawful activities with
perilous consequences for society and the polity.
Aside from increasing partisanship,
Indian politicians unfortunately focus on the routine, though not necessarily
efficient, application of the law but do not stress the necessity of
subordination of the government (and of the political class) to it.
In their view, the law exists not to limit the state (and the political
class) but to serve its power. More accurately characterised as `rule
by law' rather than the `rule of law', this narrow conception is proving
ruinous to Indian democracy.