Raj Thackeray’s brand of politics revealed once again the ugliness of parochialism. Even a cosmopolitan metropolis like Mumbai was taken to the domain of dark forces leading to a painful separation of insiders and outsiders, original Marathi inhabitants and North Indian migrants.
A politics of this kind stimulates segmented identities. With utter scepticism, we begin to think that India is merely an imaginary construct, and our real selves are determined only by narrow regional or linguistic identities. But then, it is important to realise, even if Thackeray’s Maharashtra Navnirman Sena gains temporarily from this sort of hate campaign, all that it symbolises is bound to crumble. Because India as a civilisation – as an experience of inclusiveness – is immensely powerful. History shows that it is capable of combating all sorts of exclusionary identities.
We all know that a politico geographical territory called India, over which a modern nation state is said to have legitimate control, is full of diverse cultures and traditions. At times, the obsessive assertion of these differences and resultant identity politics cause tension and anxiety. And the nation-state with its constitutional provisions and “law and order” machinery seek to combat these differences and consolidate the centrality of India as a cohesive union. These efforts, however, remain half-hearted because of the instrumentality of the political class.
But then, it has to be realised, the real strength of India lies somewhere else. It lies in the very process of civilisation that has been evolving for last five thousand years. Yes, as a civilisation India, far from being a finished product, is a perpetual process of becoming; it matures through assimilation and synthesis, through pilgrimage, through trade and commerce, and through continual interplay of folk traditions and classical traditions.
Indeed, India has been evolving through Sankara’s journey from down South to the Himalayas, through Gandhi’s presence in every part of the country during the freedom struggle, and, to take a mundane example, through all-pervasive Bollywood films. No wonder, with his poetic sensibility Tagore saw India as a confluence of multiple traditions.
In fact, it is this on-going civilising process that contributes to the making of a dialogic mind. An average Indian is invariably bilingual or multilingual. How nice it is that our railway stations announce the arrival and departure of trains often in three languages. Almost every Indian, it would not be wrong to say, remains sensitive to diverse religious/cultural festivals. Even for a conservative Hindu, it is difficult not to know anything about Id. Or, for that matter, it is simply impossible for a Tamil or a Marathi not to know anything about Durga puja in Kolkata.
As a matter of fact, we live in many worlds simultaneously; and our selves are being enriched by a fusion of horizons. True, at times, there is an arousal of segmented identities.
Yet, our dialogic consciousness, it seems, would not allow parochialism to exist as a permanent feature in our civilisation.
Possibly this dialogic spirit has further been intensified by the accelerated process of modernity. In a modern world there is no permanent home. We all are constantly moving and shifting for better life-opportunities. Indeed, we all are migrants. Modern consciousness is, therefore, peculiarly open. It cannot afford to retain the so called purity of a closed culture; it is inherently fluid and flexible.
Take, for instance, the Marwaris in Kolkata. It is absurd to consider them as “pure” Marwaris eternally separated from “pure” Bengalis. They speak Bengali no less fluently, participate in Durga puja, and even alter their dietary practices. Or, is it possible to think of Mumbai without migrants? They are no longer outsiders, they contribute no less significantly to its economy and culture. Living is now an experience of cross-cultural conversation. How can Thackeray’s politics fit into such a fluid world?
All this does not mean that everything is smooth and comfortable in our cities from where such parochialism is emerging. In fact, a segmented environment filled with hidden tension and mutual suspicion prevails. But then, its reason is not what Thackeray wants us to believe.
See the emerging conflict over space. The project of a global city celebrated by the rich and the new middle class seeks to eliminate every trace of dirt and poverty. No wonder, there is growing demand for the efficient utilisation of the urban space.
Malls must replace street vendors and local bazars; slums need to be demolished to construct luxury apartments; expressways must be constructed to allow new cars to move faster. Such a project marginalises the poor, no matter whether one is a Marathi or a Bihari.
Raj Thackeray would not reflect on this class politics and monopoly over resources. Instead, in the name of insiders vs. outsiders he falsifies everything, and targets those who are essentially the victims of the system. Let us, therefore, evolve a new politics, tap the potential of our dialogic consciousness, and defeat the life-negating and regressive journey of Raj Thackeray.
