April | 2021 | BAGICHA

Democracy Report 2021, V-Dem Institute, page 21

Extracts taken from the Democracy Report 2021:

Electoral autocracies continue to be the most common regime type. A major change is that India – formerly the world’s largest democracy with 1.37 billion inhabitants – turned into an electoral autocracy. With this, electoral and closed autocracies are home to 68% of the world’s population. Liberal democracies diminished from 41 countries in 2010 to 32 in 2020, with a population share of only 14%. Electoral democracies account for 60 nations and the remaining 19% of the population. (p13)

Yet, the diminishing of freedom of expression, the media, and civil society have gone the furthest. The Indian government rarely, if ever, used to exercise censorship as evidenced by its score of 3.5 out of 4 before Modi became Prime Minister. By 2020, this score is close to 1.5 meaning that censorship efforts are becoming routine and no longer even restricted to sensitive (to the government) issues. India is, in this aspect, now as autocratic as is Pakistan, and worse than both its neighbors Bangladesh and Nepal. In general, the Modi-led government in India has used laws on sedition, defamation, and counterterrorism to silence critics.1 For example, over 7,000 people have been charged with sedition after the BJP assumed power and most of the accused are critics of the ruling party. (p20)

Recently, the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) from 1967 and amended in August 2019 is being used to harass, intimidate, and imprison political opponents, as well as people mobilizing to protest government policies.6 The UAPA has been used also to silence dissent in academia. Universities and authorities have also punished students and activists in universities engaging in protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA). (p20)
Democracy Report 2021 by V-Dem Institute

India has consistently been ranked amongst the lowest countries in the annual reports by Reporters without Borders in Press Freedom Index:

Read Rohan Venkataramakrishnan, ‘India complains about low press freedom rank – even as ministers talk of ‘neutralising’ journalists’ Scroll, 28 Mar 2021

Read the piece by Atikh Rashid on “What are democracy and autocracy waves? What’s behind the surge of autocratisation across the world?” Man Bites Dog, 18 Mar 2021

In my own piece written to coincide with 70 years of independence for India and Pakistan, I wrote the following:

Protests at Jawaharlal Nehru University in 2016 and Ramjas College at Delhi University in 2017, with chants of Azaadi (freedom), clearly showed that the idea of freedom is not merely an act of political freedom and is certainly not a freedom from thought in the increasingly mind-numbing and stealth homogenization of the millennial generation. It entails actual and real freedoms, freedoms which allow citizens to exist without fear of persecution, fear of raising critical voices, fear of consumption and cultural practices, fear from oppression and, above all, freedom from having a question mark at their very existence just for being.

The role of any democratic country, with a well-defined rule of law, is to protect all its citizens, ensuring that their rights and freedoms are safeguarded. This is especially true of countries where, as in the case of Pakistan, there is a significant minority; and in the case of India, though a majority Hindu state, secularism is enshrined in its constitution. It is in fact difficult to imagine these lands without the heterogeneity that forms the essence of being South Asian. It is this vibrancy and diversity that gives it character and strength. To move toward a homogenous culture is not only problematic but also dangerous because it is based on exclusivity.
Freedom and Fear: India and Pakistan at 70

Recalling trips to Punjab are akin to a trip down memory lane, one which is not merely nostalgic but aromatically so, from straying into family kitchens and stopping at road-side dhabas, especially along the great GT Road. The latter used to be a family space too, i.e., often family-run businesses, little more than fragrant kiosks under corrugated roofs and rather full of the ubiquitous truck drivers transporting goods along this artery of north-east India. Perhaps my earliest memory is stopping at one such a stall in 1989, maybe mid-way between Delhi and Ludhiana. It was my first visit home since being taken to settle down in Nakuru, Kenya in 1977 and thereafter Coventry, England in 1982.

As we alighted from my brother-in-law’s eponymous Maruti, he had driven to the Palam airport to receive my mother and me, I realised that this was a familiar, if not favourite, spot of his; a feature of this road and its foodie milestones for its regular customers. It was the month of August and even as we sat outdoors, the canopy shaded us from the humid sun, on a traditional, slightly saggy manja/charpai, made of wooden posts and cotton rope. Back then dhabas dealt in a few but firm staples, serving either veg or non-veg – a term perhaps peculiar to the subcontinent – and this one gave primacy to the vegetarian fare. We stuck to the most popular of these: dal makhani (usually made with urad/black dal), served with copious amounts of makhan/butter and hot rotis. Accompanying this were a few condiments like pyaz/onions, pickles, dahi/yogurt, and to wash it all down was lassi/yogurt drink or karak cha/masala tea, notably to keep the driver going for the remainder of the journey.

Where there is food, there should be flies, especially in the open air of Naipaulian post-monsoon north India and, as a teenager coming from England, a major part of my memory is the visual fragment of blowing away flies, alternating with every other mouthful! Nothing – and no one (!) – had prepared me for their insolent onslaught. But the lingering after-taste of the dal with its distinctly earthy, buttery-ness has remained with me, as has the breezy, people-watching – or, staring-Indian-style – feeling of watching the traffic and people go by. Chatting, eating, and enjoying the essence of being back home.

The dhabas not just remain but have metamorphosed into big, loud, air-conditioned restaurants, while being family-friendly; a constant in that ever-changing part of the world. Increasing purchasing power for more in these two-three decades has led to an upward curve in people’s expectations and demands. One of the earliest to step up to (offer) the plate was Haveli, Jalandhar. Its success has led to a number of other branches opening elsewhere, not to mention the imitators and followers. Twenty years after I had first stopped at a dhaba, I first visited the Haveli with my sister, in 2009. I had heard so much about the place in previous conversations. Haveli did not simply serve “traditional” food, it sought to create an “experience” of that traditional age, catering to the wealthy diaspora, who tried hard to reconnect with their roots. Now, therefore nostalgia came at a high price, amidst the sights of a pre-fabricated “themed” restaurant, and accompanied with the Rangla Punjab model village (pictures below from 2009), depicting “typical” village life.