“…[T]he people had forfeited the confidence of the government. And could win it back only
by redoubled efforts. Would it not be easier, in that case for the government to dissolve the people
and elect another?”
Bertolt Brecht, Die Lösung, translated by Tom Kuhn and David Constantine.
This is about two deaths which occurred on consecutive days in August in Kolkata, West Bengal. Buddhadeb Bhattacharjee, former CM and CPI(M) politburo member, passed on August 8 after prolonged illness. On August 9, a medical doctor was brutally raped and murdered in the R.G. Kar Hospital premises after serving a 36-hour duty.
The two deaths are not connected by any means but it solemnly intertwines Bengal’s past and future. Its ‘Janata versus Mamata’ on the streets of Bengal. From the sordid wrecks of the state government an andolan (movement) has emerged that challenges status quo and questions the authority of custom and the authority of law.
The demise of Bengal’s not-to-be renaissance man forces a re-think of the historic 2011 poll verdict. In that sharply divided result, both the protagonist and antagonist held congruent view on one thing – history will judge. In the 13 years since, the curated euphoria and falsely promoted social perception of 2011 has been utterly and completely shattered and the lies exposed.
The government led by Mamata Banerjee is facing massive protests on the streets and history has judged that the visionary Left CM was, indeed, right. Bengal needed industrialisation. Youth needed a future. Polity needed morality. Governance needed a sense of purpose and honour needed conviction and affirmative action. On all counts comrade Buddhadev Bhattacharjee was right.
The wrong narrative had won and Bengal has grievously paid for it. As the uneducated administered, the wrecks tumbled and the inmates took centerstage to run the asylum, Education, health, governance, probity all fell in a heap. The corrupt acquired the temerity to wear the badge of disgrace with arrogance and institutions became the safe sanctuary of the scheming, conniving lumpen.
The dangers of giving the reigns of power to people with zero administrative and governance experience lay bare for all to see. The economy in shambles, a polarised society scavenged upon by degenerates and goons, and the shredding of morality at the alter of impudent hypocrisy.
Society observed. Society endured. Society did not question.
Until the doctor manifested. And something flipped.
Society did not protest the gruesome brutalities of Hashkhali, Sandeshkhali, Kamduni, Park Street and everyday others. Society did not demand rule of law when the CM went to local police stations to free miscreants. Society that is charge-sheeting the government and its organs (the police) for destruction of evidence did not, so much as raise a question, when evidence was destroyed for saradha and Narada scams. Perhaps if they did, the doctor would still be saving lives.
Unholy collusions that coalesced overtly and covertly to protect and preserve criminal elements, stall justice and ensure perpetrators went scot-free and unquestioned are active today as well. Election after election, they waltzed in the illusion of numbers and the unbounded vanity of the profane. But they are on the backfoot.
The cohesion and support cutting across the social divide for the movement is heart-warming indeed. The clarion call of “bichar chai” has rippled through to the very foundations of the League of Greed Incorporates. The authoritarian, undemocratic and suppressive government response to legitimate grievances of the population has only served to embolden the quest for justice.
“Bichar” is a loaded term and has different meanings in different socio-lingual contexts. The Bengali bichar is trial; the Hindi vichar is impressions. The higher-tier bichar is justice. In the paradigm of the andolan, all three interpretations of bichar have their place…and pitfalls.
The trial is already underway. That too in the hallowed cognisance of the Supreme Court. So, if a bichar (trial) is what they want, they have got one. The rest, as they say, is the playground of the legal professionals and in the domain of law.
Vichar, as in impressions (of the actors), is being formed in the process. Public memory being shot, so to remember and to remind – is the bounden duty of right-thinking public figures, political forces, civil society and the intelligentsia.
That takes me to the broader and more holistic fight for bichar (justice). Let me enunciate a very simplistic definition to differentiate between law and justice which I have borrowed from Anthony D’Amato (On the Connection Between Law and Justice, Northwestern University School of Law 2011).
“Law” – officially promulgated rules of conduct, backed by state-enforced penalties for their transgression.
”Justice” – rendering to each person what he or she deserves.
From the Andolan’s perspective, I flag the perverse narrative (and logic) of the “apolitical” which, curiously springs up every time an anti-establishment movement gathers a strength and momentum. The fight against state despotism, against institutionalised corruption and morally bankrupt governance cannot and should not be apolitical.
If delivery of justice is through state organs, how can demands and negotiations be apolitical? How can matters pertaining to safety of life to which the State is a Party, be apolitical? Class action needs both structure and legitimacy that cannot be provided outside the political domain. Lessons learnt from the Anna Hazare movement should not be lost on us.
And if justice is interpreted as above, then lets quickly review who deserves what.
The doctor, for one, deserves dignity and justice itself.
The participants in the andolan deserve our purest admiration and unstinted support.
The culprits, the trial.
And perpetrators, handlers and overseers of this rotten regime? What do they deserve? One thing and one thing only – No Vote to Mamata. And this is political.
There can only be one retribution – a political one. Any other form is rehabilitation. If the objective is to achieve justice, then enfranchise yourself and vote against the government. That’s the only place it hurts. That’s the only language they talk. That’s the only solace for the deceased.
While depending on the judicial system for interpreting and administering legal trial, “justice” can be delivered by the andolan itself. The people on the streets have to administer justice by conjoining “bichar chai” with a call “Ei sarkar chai na”. For those vested interests that is playing up the “apolitical” gimmick and some even asserting that they want to change the system and not the government, I say, the “system” is the creation of the government and the polity that it espouses. If you want restoration of law and order, go legal. If you want “justice”, go political.
So how does the doctor meet Buddhadeb? To begin, the andolan has been sufficiently proletarised. Class coalitions, have been built and sustained for over a month. And growing. In the age of social media and tech-driven templates, they have demonstrated incredible tact and sagacity in identification with leftist forms and methods of propaganda.
It has given the movement the identity it needed. For its most cogent and most potent protest, Bengal has turned Left. Again. The language of the movement is nestled in Leftist wombs. The dialectics more so. It’s not a coincidence that popular singer Arijit Singh’s song “aar kobe” bears an uncanny resemblance in terms of sound and texture to the Salil Chowdhury Gananatya classics.
The ghost of Buddhadeb has come back. Kindness is the new cool. Compassion is the new bravado. Equality and fairness are the new spontaneous. And relentless, never-say-die fight for your conviction is awesome again.
Arindom Mookerjee is an economist and a former Head of External Relations and Partnerships with WHO and UN OCHA in Geneva. The views expressed are personal.
