First it was the outrage over “atrocities” against the Hindus in Bangladesh after the abrupt regime change in Dhaka, and, then, it was the slugfest over the latest episode in the unfinished SEBI/Adani/Hindenburg saga.
Still later, it was the prime minister’s undiminished preoccupation with extreme partisanship on the Independence Day that has allowed us to get distracted from asking the question assailing the conscience and common sense of every Indian: how to account for our flop show at the Paris Olympics?
It was a dismal performance. We have come in at number 71, well behind nations much smaller than us. We have not even touched our own score of seven medals at the Tokyo Olympics four years ago. Even Ukraine, a nation caught in a devastating war for the past two years, secured three gold, five silver and four bronze, for a total of 12 and can be sufficiently proud of being at no. 22, almost 50 notches above us.
Prime Minister Modi’s impending visit to that country would be worth all the hullabaloo only if he can learn from his hosts what it takes to perform credibly in an international competition.
After all, we are repeatedly told that we have become a transformed nation, soon to be the third largest economy, and a country blessed with unalloyed nationalist leadership that is serenaded across the globe. We have told ourselves that in these past ten years we have purged ourselves of those weaknesses and aberrations that had pockmarked our national endeavours during the “first 60 years.”
And, in an inspired and much-applauded move, our leadership had even renamed the Rajiv Gandhi Khel Ratna Award to Major Dhyan Chand Khel Ratna Award—an authentic signal from an authentic leader to unleash our authentic energies in the sporting arena. Yet, no dice.
Almost all sports’ commentators tell us that there was no dearth of resources and encouragement from the government. To be fair, the prime minister would have liked nothing better than to have basked in the reflected glory of an Olympian gold medalist.
After all, thanks to the relentless communication offensive from the ruling corner, we have convinced ourselves these past ten years that all accomplishments, all achievements, all honours, all milestones – in fact anything worth crowing about – can be attributed to the inspiration and energy that the prime minister has introduced in our collective life since 2014.
Still, we did cut a sorry figure at the Paris Olympics. No question about it. And, we do owe it to ourselves to make sense of this national disappointment.
All said and done, we are a more nationalist nation, a more worked up and a more aggressive society than we were in 2014. Thanks to the advantage of a dedicated leadership, we have the collective gumption to show “lal ankh” [red eyes] to our presumed enemies. Yet we feel envious of nations much smaller than us who have done far better at Paris, that too without all the extra bonuses and blessings we have enjoyed since 2014.
Admittedly, we do well in a game called cricket, even though we had to wait for 12 years before an Indian cricket captain could lift a world champion trophy.
Many sportspersons have bemoaned our extravagant preoccupation with cricket. That lament is not without some merit. Is it possible that all our collective desire to cheer sports heroes gets exhausted – if not entirely sated – in serenading the Kohlis and the Dhonis and the Rohit Sharmas? And, cricket is not even an authentic Indian game; we all know it was imported to our shores by our colonial masters.
So how do we explain our failure to hold our own in global competitions in the manner, say, of China – a country we would very much want to see as our rival?
Could it be our civilisational inwardness that has, over the generations and centuries, made us remain satisfied with mediocrity and under-achievement? Could it be this inwardness that has persuaded us to show ill-grace whenever an outsider undertakes a scrutiny and critique of who we are?
An exception to this trait was Jawaharlal Nehru, who was neither unaware of our own shortcomings nor resentful of external critics who periodically try to run down democratic India. In fact, all our nationalist leaders in the early days of the republic were serenely unperturbed by the outsider’s unkind words because their faith in the promise of this land was anchored in the nobility of a freedom struggle.
That experience steeled the nation’s founders in a unique combination of civilisational self-assuredness and the aspirations of a newly-liberated nation. There was a collective confidence that we were not going to collapse whatever uncharitable judgments outsiders could throw at us.
Sociologists may have something to tell us about how and when we, as a nation, began losing this Nehruvian equanimity. But there can be little argument that in these past ten years, our ruling elite has encouraged a cultivated sense of insularity; any criticism is testily dismissed as an affront to our nationhood and an insult to Prime Minister Modi.
We have been so aggressively touchy about any negative assessment of our presumed achievements that we no longer have a realistic capacity or a working compass to recognise the virtues of excellence and world-classness.
The reason for this definite regression is perhaps no mystery. In these past ten years, the ruling dispensation has managed to staff most of the governmental apparatus with its own outdated and undereducated “pracharaks” and “swayamsevaks.”
Higher education is the worst affected sector; those who would not pass muster as assistant professors have been appointed vice-chancellors. The result is an all-round collapse and chaos in our universities and colleges. Those who have talent and potential end up going to globally-recognised sites of excellence; others necessarily learn to adjust their lives and dreams in institutionalised mediocrity.
This institutionalised mediocrity of the past ten years has now eaten into the vitality of all national endeavours. The ruling elite and its designated chamberlains have developed a deep vested interest in our own inwardness – and in the resulting aversion to global competition and universal definitions of excellence and perfection.
We have proudly developed the thick skin of a rhinoceros to shake-off the humiliation at Paris as just another bad day at the office; “Naya Bharat” could not care less. In fact, we are already back, neck-deep in our national game of trafficking in pettiness and mean-mindedness. Adios, then, till we falter, again, in Los Angeles.
(Harish Khare is a former editor-in-chief of The Tribune.)
