If you followed the tenor of the Jan Lokpal bill debate between parliamentarians and representatives of civil society, you would've noticed that what got the "leaders" collective goat was the temerity of mere mortals to question authority. Many members of parliament were deeply offended that ordinary citizens were sitting across the table from them and demanding accountability. Their sense of entitlement was outraged. It didn't help that representatives of civil society were calling them very colourful names - evidently, a privilege reserved for the house in session. Textbook cliches were pulled up, dusted, and aired with tiring frequency: "any attack on members of parliament is an attack on parliament itself" "all politicians are not corrupt" "they should apologise" "Parliament is supreme" and (my personal favourite) "let them contest elections." Why should a citizen have to contest an election to participate in a democracy? Should we be denied a voice because we are not in the governing class? A demcoracy allows citizens to demand accountability from its elected representatives - they may be boxing in the ring, but we not only put money on them but bought tickets for a ringside view as well, and we have every right to demand our money's worth. We need not get into the ring.
There is nothing impressive or substantive about the "Sense of the House" resolution. Thumping tables is a brain-dead and almost disrespectful way to endorse a resolution. Besides, the resolution offers practically nothing. It's a tepid "whatever" response to a show that was getting out of hand and needed to be quickly brought under control. Thump the table, break up the party, pull the plug on the media frenzy, and it's business as usual the morning after.
But the resolution is impressive and important for another reason: an innocuous-looking starving 74-year-old ordinary Indian citizen brought the administration to its knees. It is no mean feat that an old man from the dusty backroads of rural India pulled up the administration by its scruff and gave it a shakedown that rattled its teeth. Nothing Gandhian about that. Not when you place it within the context of the Indian social structure with its fiercely rigid pecking order that forbids any questioning of authority. In a society where the outcome of every interaction is directed by the power equation, a negotiating table is virtually unnecessary. Obedience to established structures, norms, and authority is supreme. Cultivation and nurturing of placid, unquestioning minds is a task that the Indian education system accomplishes with ease and pride. Our education system is not designed to be participative - none of our institutions are. We are not allowed to build the institutions to which we belong. Which is why we rarely ever belong. We only inhabit them for what they can give to us. We exist to follow orders. Unquestioningly. Because our culture celebrates and rewards "tell-me-what-to-do" mediocrity. Most of our institutions in both the private and the public sector are feudal organizations housed in 21st century buildings because unfortunately, regressive mindsets cannot be changed with legislation. Power-crazed 5-year-old class monitors hover like mother hens clucking admonishingly over their wards. People in positions of authority routinely talk down to people under them but refuse to be accountable themselves. An ordinary bank clerk sitting behind a counter will talk down to his customer simply because he believes he can.
Anna Hazare's roadshow has changed all that. The stubborn but cheerful rabble-rouser has inspired the Indian citizen to thumb his nose at a system that demands subservience and embrace the more egalitarian principles of democracy. A bellicose administration that ran around in circles for months chasing its own tail has finally run into an unexpected brick wall - not the beanbag that they had hoped to pummel into submission.
That's the beauty of democracy - you can stay out of the ring and still knock your opponent's lights out.
