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Wednesday, Feb 16, 2005

Opinion

Opinion - Leader Page Articles

Civil society and the state

By Harish Khare

The discourse over the attack on S.A.R. Geelani has revealed a number of disturbing trends.

IN THE last few days, three members of the Muslim community — Iqbal Mirchi, Sania Mirza and S.A.R. Geelani — have made different kinds of demands on our collective attention and affection. How we deal with such demands tells us about the emotional prejudices and preferences we invest in our political and constitutional order.

First, Mr. Mirchi. He is wanted by the Indian police authorities as one of the prime accused in the March 1993 Mumbai bomb blasts, widely perceived in the popular imagination as "their" response to the desecration of the Babri Masjid on December 6, 1992. Last week, Mr. Mirchi was ranked by a United Nations agency as one of the world's top 50 drug barons. He has been avoiding extradition to India. He was quoted as having told a group of British journalists that "India was pursuing him for two crimes he could not help, namely, being Muslim and a successful Muslim businessman." Mr. Mirchi chooses to wear his Muslim identity on his sleeve and proclaims loudly that he will not get "justice" from the Indian legal system.

Sania Mirza. A young Muslim girl, who belongs to a traditional family, has suddenly captured the national attention, especially after a credible performance in the Australian Tennis Open. This attention got converted into a national euphoria when she won the WTA tournament in Hyderabad last week. The media mills, which routinely churn out information and images and crank up emotions behind those images, effortlessly elevated her to a national icon. Neither did she flaunt her Muslim identity nor did anyone feel it was necessary to highlight her Muslimness; rather it can be argued that the young woman has perhaps been heaped with far too much praise and with the expectations that come with such admiration. Still, the point that needs to be made is that she was accorded the public adoration and admiration on account of her achievement in an international competitive arena. Her Muslim identity was no hindrance to adoration and applause.

Syed Abdul Rahman Geelani has, once again, made the most difficult and dramatic claims on our attention. He was accused of being a part of the conspiracy to attack Parliament House on December 13, 2001. He was sentenced to death by the Sessions Court but was later acquitted by the Delhi High Court. Last week every liberal soul was shaken to its core when someone shot at and grievously injured him outside his lawyer's house.

December 13 was no ordinary event. Symbolically, it was an attack on the very temple of democracy; from its dramatic content it was meant to demonstrate to the entire world the audacity of those who call themselves jehadis; it was also designed to graphically expose the vulnerability of the Indian state and its capacity to perform its obligation to protect its citizens.

It took place at a time when the Vajpayee-Advani regime was trying to divide Indians into "us" versus "them" categories. The regime had proceeded on an assumption that after 9/11, it had the international (at least, the American) understanding, if not approval, to institute a politics of divisiveness at home. It nervously talked itself into raising our quarrel with Pakistan to a new high and ended up mobilising the Army for a six-month-long face-off on the border.

Given the political and emotional context, it was only natural that there was a scramble to invest the December 13 event with certain sinister meaning. Voices of scepticism and dissent were drowned in the establishment-inspired guilt apportioning. So traumatic and so dramatic were the December 13 images, played over and over again a million times, that we lost our own sense of equanimity. We collectively needed identifiable villains and the Delhi Police (with considerable help from other "agencies") produced a cast of unusual suspects. Mr. Geelani was one of them.

Mr. Geelani and others were not only charged as guilty of the actual crime but were judged to have been doing so as part of a larger conspiracy, designed and financed by those bad guys from across the border. The mass media proved a willing and enthusiastic partner in this establishment-cranked up finger-pointing.

But a small section of the civil liberty community bravely refused to give in to the demands made in the name of national hysteria. A legal battle was waged in defence of Mr. Geelani. Respected and eminent members of civil society gladly associated themselves with the Geelani defence. It became an opportunity to test the depth of our collective commitment to the rigours of the rule of law.

His acquittal was one of the finest moments in the history of the Indian legal system, even though the good professor chose to underline his "Kashmiri" and "Muslim" identity. It did much to restore, at home and abroad, the image of the legal system's fairness and proved that it was not a handmaiden of the political leadership and its prejudices. It also provided a moment of considerable satisfaction to the liberal community, which had taken up cudgels on his behalf.

After Mr. Geelani's acquittal, his supporters accused large chunks of the mainstream media of demonising an innocent professor, and playing up planted stories in order to discredit him; those in the academic community who did not join in the defence were accused of being soft on communalism, etc. Ironically, now we are invited by Professor Geelani's supporters to demonise the police force, at least a section of the Delhi Special Cell.

Though there is yet no convincing answer as to who gains what from an attack on the professor, we do need to have some convincing answer about the identity (and patrons) of the assailant because the discourse over the shooting incident has unwittingly revealed a number of disturbing trends.

First and foremost, the presumption of police complicity. It reflects a wider societal distrust of the police force. If this distrust is so pervasive in the very heart of the national capital, it must be totally paralysing in distant districts. If the popular assumption is that the police force is anti-people enough to want to silence a man just for the sake of settling some real or imaginary score, then the police force cannot rely on the kind of cooperation from citizens that is a hallmark of a modern society. There can be no good governance if citizens feel so alienated from one arm of the government.

Secondly, on a more sophisticated level of argumentation, it is suggested that the attack on the good professor could be the handiwork of "rogue" elements within the Delhi police force, aided and abetted by other "lawless" and "unaccountable" official "agencies." There are bad eggs in every basket and black sheep in every force. The "rogue" element suggestion does not take into account the change in the regime at the Centre, nor does it take into account the fact that the new dispensation cannot be suspected of tolerating any such unworthy elements. In fact, this charge is of a piece with a special project that seems out to discredit and virtually dismantle all those instruments of state power that are vital to our collective security and harmony. Special police forces and intelligence agencies are unavoidable necessities in any state system, and the deployment of such instruments is the price that even democracies have to pay. Just because there is a "peace process" at work between India and Pakistan, it would be totally irresponsible to believe that men, ideas, ideologies and organisations that had masterminded December 13 have packed up their terror bags.

Thirdly, there is a disturbing assumption in the current discourse: because Professor Geelani is a Muslim he would be done in by the "system." This is grossly unfair, mostly to those who stood by the professor in his hour of trial. This kind of accusation strengthens the likes of Iqbal Mirchis and distracts from the new role models such as Sania Mirza.

Lastly, there is the obligation of responsible criticism: How to make the exercise of state power reasonable, restrained and responsible without destroying its efficacy and legitimacy. Civil society has every right to raise its voice in defence of a citizen but this voice will not be heard if it is raised in a wrong tone and pitch.

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