Suhas Palshikar writes: This I-Day, let's enliven the idea of a critical citizen

Indian Express

a day ago

What does a country's freedom mean? The elementary meaning of freedom for a society is an independent political existence that can withstand external pressures in the contemporary global context. As India celebrates another Independence Day, it faces an awkward situation. Just a few months ago, India was made proud by the skill of its armed forces, leading to an impression that military capability alone is a sine qua non and guarantor of a country's freedom in this primary sense. The lukewarm global response to India's stand on Pakistan alerted it to the limitations of mere military capability. Following that, India is staring at the current moment of imperialism (see 'Against imperialism' by Pratap Bhanu Mehta, IE, August 5). The US stance is not merely about tariffs but also about India's choices of doing trade with other countries. While the US is the current villain, let us not forget that China, as much as the US, is an actor constricting India's freedom in the global state system. These two actors have shown that, beyond military capabilities, it is the economy that matters in sustaining freedom in this first sense.
Two, any discussion of freedom must examine the realm of civic freedom. Even as India keeps struggling against international pressures — partly through posturing and partly through negotiations — the question of freedom must take into account the institutionally approved space for freedom of its citizens. What is a country, after all, without its citizens? So, as much as the country's manoeuvrability in the global context, the freedom that its citizens are supposed to have matters in any discussion of the country's freedom. And if that freedom is found to be weak, there are no easy villains out there, such as enemy countries or friends-turned-foes. We must look within, both for finding out how free we are and what obstructs that freedom.
Constitutional experts have laboured on this theme and debated if the Constitution is a grammar of freedoms or a grammar of state power. That rich debate is useful, but beyond that, the realm of civic freedoms can be assessed more in the context of the ethic of approbation that permeates thinking among power-holders.
Holders of power expect that the only correct interpretation of the constitutional scope of civic freedoms is the one based on the idea that the regime and its minions are entitled to loyalty from citizens. This idea is increasingly being written into the laws and read in the laws by courts. There is a well-deserved disappointment when a judge lays out what the Opposition leader should not do. But we ignore that it is the routine norm of adjudication in a majority of cases involving freedom of expression and it is also a more accepted approach to freedoms among politicians and increasingly among media persons. That norm implicitly upholds the idea of an ideal citizen — docile, in awe of the state, paying obeisance to authority, trusting the paternal intentions of power-holders. In this normative approach, the legislature, executive, bureaucracy and judiciary are often in agreement. It hides behind the idea that authority is bona fide and that criticism, opposition, protests, must therefore operate within the framework of approbation. This agreement is far more significant than the constitutional design that installs a (limited) framework of civic freedoms.
The third realm of freedom consists of a collective morality that informs the idea of freedom. Historically, Indian society has been weak on this count because of the compulsions of intra-group monitoring by caste and religious groups. Even amid these limiting circumstances, the autonomy of individual citizens in the face of social or collective force is further weakening in contemporary times. Instead of jealously guarding our freedoms, the popular view is that freedom is to be willy-nilly tolerated. Current political processes keep inventing alibis for limiting freedoms and in turn, people believe in those alibis.
The ethic of approbation plays a critical role in a restrictive space for freedom. The official discourse about the good citizen or a true Indian not only weighs upon citizens; it also unleashes social processes of surveillance, browbeating and name-calling. The past decade has seen these processes becoming stronger not merely because the ruling party supports them but also because the governmental machinery actively encourages citizens to be docile and uncritical and the judiciary has failed to function as a counterbalancing force. The fact that courts decide which cause is worthy of a protest march is hardly even commented upon.
These processes discouraging freedom and the concomitant diversity of ideas and practices are becoming all-pervasive. As the ruling party continues to be electorally acceptable, the erosion of critical spaces manifests itself in a variety of ways. In the field of competitive politics, in spite of apparently bitter competition, there is seldom any challenge to the ethic of approbation or to the idea of a patronising authority. Once the BJP has successfully installed the template for a harsh anti-freedom state, Opposition parties, fearful of alienating the median voter, shy away from strengthening the ideas of difference and dissent. Harsh laws and arbitrary arrests are weapons all governments use enthusiastically — thus jeopardising the idea of a citizenry that would be able to criticise and protest. Thus, a culture of conformity forms the basis of competitive politics.
The overall political culture, too, tends to adopt conformity with dominant ideas as its main feature. No wonder, the so-called elites — from industry, arts, media and academia — have chosen the path of self-censorship. They either become cheerleaders of the regime of unfreedom or choose silence. Conformity and silence mark elite responses to the crisis of freedom because they are confronted with the dual threats of government coercion and the free play of vigilante action. The former can at least, in principle, be challenged in court, but the latter is literally a law unto itself. These two threats constitute the basis for the prevailing social atmosphere of circumspection and compromise. It is not easy to expect ordinary citizens to engage in a critical examination of power in this atmosphere. The idea of a critical citizen is predicated on the possibility of public reason, whereas both India's formal-institutional discourse and the prevalent culture of loyalty foreclose that possibility.
So what, then, is a country's freedom? Is it about tactical silences in order to escape the wrath of the state and private vigilantes? If we are a free society, should the exercise of freedom be an act of bravado demanding that the citizen pays a heavy price for it?
The writer, based in Pune, taught Political Science