As the decade turned into the millennium's last, the country and my life were delicately poised; deliverance a few tantalizing months away. Personally, it was a cusp between hitherto sheltered school life and college plus the big bad world beyond; and not bereft of birth pangs. Those life defining moments pale into utter insignificance over the winds of change about to be unleashed on a somewhat ill-prepared nation!
To many, the national landscape appeared despairingly bleak with little by way of redeeming features. The economy seemed destined for a Hindu rate of growth. Any advantage from the baby steps of Rajiv Years had been mostly bungled away by succeeding regimes. Indeed, some ominously portended India turning a banana Republic, with IMF-World Bank painted as the new age avatars of the East India Company (though in retrospect it can be said that doomsayers read too much into what was certainly a perilous macroeconomic situation). Ascribing imperialistic motives to multilateral lending institutions was accompanied by barely-suppressed murmurs of a grand design on part of 'foreign powers' (read the United States, with its real or perceived proximity to arch enemy Pakistan).
This was more than mere Cold War hangover. It can be argued that years of Nehruvian Socialism had sapped away the nation's collective confidence, or its appetite for change. There also existed a school of thought (the Right) that looked further aft to trace the roots of our lack of self-belief and passivation. Swiftly gaining mindshare and acceptance, this view argued that the defeatism stemmed from events over the preceding thousand years in our history, notably the countless cross-Hindu Kush assaults on her suzerainty and economic wealth. Regardless, at this crucial juncture, the emasculating Nehruvian model was more than the smile of Cheshire cat, with significant coinage in political discourse and economic intent.
There is, of course, merit in debating the point of inflection when the Nehru model outlived its usefulness. However, in 1991 it was academic in face of income inequity and regional imbalance that were sorry realities of our prevalent socioeconomic existence. At another level, the incipient Licence Raj had merely changed the skin-colour of India's ruling elite: adding endemic corruption to the atmosphere of mistrust and lack of transparency that were British legacy. Again, shibboleths of Demos had taken a big beating from the futile poverty alleviation pledges of the 70s, the snuffed promise of 1984, and doomed Janata experiments. Governance seemed equally eclipsed by a bogey of terror that shifted addresses yet never got wiped out.
Hope, in short, was at a premium. Unfortunately, its purveyors were yet more so. The probable best bet had been tragically lost to a human bomb that summer. The multiple Janata Dal PMs-in-waiting were but wasted breath. Abki-baari-Atal-Behari was still waiting to happen. And the last election's messed-up messiah had taken his well-earned place in the dustbin of history, following his doomed premiership and ill-disguised social agenda, with eminently forgettable poetry and equally inadequate art.
As it turned out, partly aided by sympathy over Sriperumbudur, the mandate swung largely towards India's GOP. The leadership mantle fell on the unlikely shoulders of a vanprastha ashram-bound PV Narasimha Rao. The nation had her first Prime Minister from south of the Vindhyas (in fact the first not from the electorally crucial battle-state of Uttar Pradesh). What followed thereafter: politics of pout, a rapid rise in barter-system of social pressure groups and ostrich-like approach to national issues; but surprisingly significant, even if inevitable, economic reform; is a tale for another day!
To many, the national landscape appeared despairingly bleak with little by way of redeeming features. The economy seemed destined for a Hindu rate of growth. Any advantage from the baby steps of Rajiv Years had been mostly bungled away by succeeding regimes. Indeed, some ominously portended India turning a banana Republic, with IMF-World Bank painted as the new age avatars of the East India Company (though in retrospect it can be said that doomsayers read too much into what was certainly a perilous macroeconomic situation). Ascribing imperialistic motives to multilateral lending institutions was accompanied by barely-suppressed murmurs of a grand design on part of 'foreign powers' (read the United States, with its real or perceived proximity to arch enemy Pakistan).
This was more than mere Cold War hangover. It can be argued that years of Nehruvian Socialism had sapped away the nation's collective confidence, or its appetite for change. There also existed a school of thought (the Right) that looked further aft to trace the roots of our lack of self-belief and passivation. Swiftly gaining mindshare and acceptance, this view argued that the defeatism stemmed from events over the preceding thousand years in our history, notably the countless cross-Hindu Kush assaults on her suzerainty and economic wealth. Regardless, at this crucial juncture, the emasculating Nehruvian model was more than the smile of Cheshire cat, with significant coinage in political discourse and economic intent.
There is, of course, merit in debating the point of inflection when the Nehru model outlived its usefulness. However, in 1991 it was academic in face of income inequity and regional imbalance that were sorry realities of our prevalent socioeconomic existence. At another level, the incipient Licence Raj had merely changed the skin-colour of India's ruling elite: adding endemic corruption to the atmosphere of mistrust and lack of transparency that were British legacy. Again, shibboleths of Demos had taken a big beating from the futile poverty alleviation pledges of the 70s, the snuffed promise of 1984, and doomed Janata experiments. Governance seemed equally eclipsed by a bogey of terror that shifted addresses yet never got wiped out.
Hope, in short, was at a premium. Unfortunately, its purveyors were yet more so. The probable best bet had been tragically lost to a human bomb that summer. The multiple Janata Dal PMs-in-waiting were but wasted breath. Abki-baari-Atal-Behari was still waiting to happen. And the last election's messed-up messiah had taken his well-earned place in the dustbin of history, following his doomed premiership and ill-disguised social agenda, with eminently forgettable poetry and equally inadequate art.
As it turned out, partly aided by sympathy over Sriperumbudur, the mandate swung largely towards India's GOP. The leadership mantle fell on the unlikely shoulders of a vanprastha ashram-bound PV Narasimha Rao. The nation had her first Prime Minister from south of the Vindhyas (in fact the first not from the electorally crucial battle-state of Uttar Pradesh). What followed thereafter: politics of pout, a rapid rise in barter-system of social pressure groups and ostrich-like approach to national issues; but surprisingly significant, even if inevitable, economic reform; is a tale for another day!
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1 comments:
Our dear wordsmith has sworn three consecutive, ornamented; write ups… the question is, were these because of his love or abhorrence for politics, rather, for people running the game? The acrimony tickled me throughout and my laughter finally broke the silence of this oblivious room when I read … “Abki baari Atal Behari was as yet waiting to happen”.
Though a few others were dragged, but, your outward interest against our “Almighty Congress” puts one to wonder, that, besides Mr.Roger Barret, is there any other famous/defamed soul, for whom you’d want to hint your affection?
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