Recently, I was told by a colleague, a teacher, of the ‘exemplary work’, done by the person in-charge of examination in the institution. On probing further, I found out that a student of the college had been injured just ahead of the final exams. The person in-charge of the examination department had secured a wheelchair for her to reach the classroom. On hearing this, I was perplexed: Why was this praiseworthy? Was it not his duty to arrange for a wheelchair? Was it not the girl’s right to get the chair to reach the examination spot? Then, why were praises being showered so profusely?
In fact, this is reflective of a larger vacuum -- the space for rights and rights-based discourses is shrinking steadily, as we continue to watch, often as passive spectators. The poor have repeatedly, and shamelessly, been reminded of the benevolence of different governments. This has gone up significantly, in the wake of the Covid-19 outbreak and the ensuing lockdowns. Hordes of un/under-employed poor are being told at every instance that they are being fed and supported by a caring government which is offering them free rations.
During the election campaign in UP, a sitting MLA, who has been re-elected now, angrily complained that the poor have benefitted from the ‘free rations’, ‘money’ and ‘housing’ that “we (the government) provided, but even then they are not coming forth to say that they will vote for us…is this justice?”
The language of rights and entitlements, thus, gives way to a language of charity, sustaining the imagery of a saviour. The compassionate government is going an extra mile to aid the poor and, so in all due fairness, deserving of their electoral support.
Likewise, protesting university students have been told that their institutions are funded by the government’s resources and, ultimately, by the taxpayers. So, it is best that they keep their heads down and acknowledge the support that they are already receiving, for they are, anyway, studying for free or at minimal costs.
Similarly, Indian Muslims have long been harangued for speaking against the Indian state and told to go to Pakistan. It is alleged that they avail the benefits of the subsidy schemes and other provisions, brought in by the Indian government, and then go on to oppose its policies. So, it is only fitting to intimidate them.
What binds all these divergent narrative strands together is the evident ingratitude and even indiscipline of the citizen. The thankless citizen, who instead of feeling indebted to the government for its largesse, criticises it and even demands more, needs to be firmly chastised. The very government that extends free rations, educational facilities, and other benefits, can just as well withdraw these.
In this shrill cacophony, growing steadily louder, what is the place of rights? How has this consciousness evolved with time? One might well ask where are those discourses and conversations, that securely underpin campaigns, generated around issues of greater accountability, transparency, food security, accessible information, among others.
The enforced silencing now represents a striking departure from the persistent hard labour that had gone into forging many of these right-based campaigns. The gradual effacement of rights was clearly evinced most recently in the monumental (mis)handling of the Covid-19 crisis and the vaccine distribution processes that were put in place.
In the vaccine distribution effort in particular, the discourse of charity towards helpless citizens took centre stage. The disturbing reality, emerging now, is that the Indian citizen, routinely experiencing brute hierarchies of culture, caste, gender, ethnicity and religion, is being compelled, yet again, to forsake the discourse of rights. Instead, she is expected to wait for favours from governments, propelled by a wide network of state agencies and commanded by messianic leaders. In this culture making messiahs, however, the biggest loser remains the Indian citizen.
(The writer is a historian.)