Delhi’s Urban Villages

Economies of Rent
Properties of Rent: Community, Capital and Politics in Globalising Delhi by
Sushmita Pati, New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, 2022; pp xxvi +
295, `1,050.

In her book, Properties of Rent: Community, Capital and Politics in Globalising

Delhi, Sushmita Pati delves into the lives and neighbourhoods of Delhi’s urban
villages, with a special focus on Munirka and Shahpur Jat. She does this under the
rubric of “rent,” referring to the fact that since the 1990s, these urban villages have
become critical real estate zones providing housing for low-income migrants in
Munirka as well as crucial space for creative industries, boutiques, and garment
workshops or karkhanas in Shahpur Jat.

The agricultural lands of these erstwhile agrarian villages had already been
acquired for the rapid expansion of the capital at different points after 1947,
leaving only the actual villages’ abadi or settlement areas intact. However, as these
abadi areas were left outside of the city’s post-independence planning by-laws, the
villagers were free to construct as they pleased within the lal dora as it came to be
called. In Pati’s coinage, then, rent refers to the fact that the real estate markets of
these villages remain dominated by their owners—mainly Jat, but also Dalit and
Nai landlords who have come to build buildings of multiple storeys and heights on
their erstwhile homestead lands as demand for cheap residential and commercial
spaces has increased in otherwise, highly regulated and zoned Delhi.

Vernacular Economies

Indeed, the term rent takes on many valances in this book, referring most
prominently to the “vernacular economies” of these villages, where land is
controlled by a few communities, who utilise their community networks to raise
funds and finances, manage state rules and interventions while policing tenants to
ensure that the villages, with their manifold buildings, remain within their grasp.
There are few examples of “outside” private developers in these areas, even as the
mainly Jat landlords have bought lands in other parts of the city and national
capital region where other Jat- and Gujjar-dominated villages remain, within and
through larger community networks and formations. In this, Pati and her book
remind us of the centrality of Jat/Gujjar-dominated villages and their agrarian lands
that undergird the modern metropolis of Delhi and the surrounding National
Capital Region.

Pati’s book is divided into seven chapters. Chapters 1 and 2 are set in the period
before economic liberalisation and tell the history of land acquisition of the
agricultural lands of the two villages, how this was negotiated and disputed by the
villagers, how the land remaining in and around the villages became sites of
occupation (kabza) and speculation, as the villages themselves became a part of an
urbanising landscape. Chapter 2 looks particularly at how villagers came to utilise
their compensation monies and sought access to new urban work, and enterprise in
transport, construction, and other trades, including via obtaining state licences,
seeking to economically diversify once their agricultural lands were gone.

In the post-liberalisation period, these attempts at finding work, jobs and

businesses appear to have given way to the building and formation of dense rental
economies within the lal dora areas of the village, as construction has flourished
with the coming of new, neoliberal capital to the city post-1991, catalysing a rising
demand for cheap rental space.

New Rental Landscape

Chapters 3 and 4 describe the emergence of this new rental landscape in Munirka
and Shahpur Jat. This includes the coming of the “one-room” set as an innovation
in the rental landscape which could be let out to mainly northeastern migrants
looking for cheap housing in Munirka, while in Shahpur Jat, Pati traces the
emergence of the garment industry in the form
of karkhanas and addas (workshops specialising in embroidery), in which legions
of mainly Muslim Bengali craftsperson live and produce high-end cloth and
garments. These are sometimes sold in the gentrified parts of the village on the
outskirts of Shahpur Jat, which has become a site for cafes, the offices of creative
workers and start-ups, restaurants and boutiques.

The landlord/villagers themselves are mainly concerned with building and

rebuilding their real estate to maximise rental incomes, while keeping the state at
bay. As the building in the villages increased, the municipal state became
increasingly concerned with regulating village rental economies, including through
both the threat of demolition and “regularisation,” or post facto legalisation of this
auto-constructed environment. The villagers themselves, Pati writes, remain deeply
suspicious of state moves and involvement, having already ceded their lands for
“planned Delhi” for meagre compensations.

Chapter 5 focuses on how the villagers have succeeded and managed to build their
new rental economy outside of state regulation and formal credit markets. It is in
this chapter that Pati defines the various constituent parts of the vernacular
economies she is tracing through institutions such as the panchayat/resident
welfare associations (RWAs), relations of bhaichara (literally
brotherhood) and kunba (extended family/clan).

Pati conceives of these as pre-neo-liberal forms that transformed in new conditions,

allowing for continued community control over the new rental economy. In this
context, thus, khap panchayats/RWAs appear as cartels, mediating disputes
between village landlords while also allowing for the real estate market to function
as a community-dominated monopoly.

In the absence of formal credit from banks, finances for building are sought
through locally trusted networks, including through kametis (committees), which
allow people to pool together monies through a trusted organiser or “financing,” a
new form of moneylending based on daily/frequent collections allowing for
constant cash liquidity. The clan/extended family or kunba, by contrast, works as a
joint stock company, bringing together unequal stakeholders to produce a corporate
identity, especially towards outsiders. Pati shows, for example, how landlords of
Shahpur Jat came together to shut down efforts by their tenants to organise
themselves and “fix” the village environment. For Pati, one critical difference
between the vernacular economy of rent and neo-liberal financialised capital is
precisely the importance of continued community control, even though the rental
economy of the villages is firmly linked to the vicissitudes of political economies
of globalising Delhi.

Changing Urban Economies

In Chapter 7, the book’s focus shifts to non-Jat communities in the two villages,
namely the Jatavs, Nai, and Balmikis. In tracing their journeys, Pati marks the
divergence between the Jatavs and the Balmikis, in particular. While the Jatavs
have experienced social mobility through their own efforts at political organising,
education, government employment, and increasing participation in the rental
economy, the Balmikis have not fared as well. Jatav/Nai’s success in terms of
becoming landlords has also meant that the dominant Jats of these areas have had
to redefine what community means to accommodate other castes, through new
forms and associations or rubrics such as gaonwallahs (villagers)
or mulnivas (original inhabitants) that are flexible enough to allow for such
accommodations. Indeed, the strength of the volume is in its detailed rendering of
how caste-derived socialities blend with, and into, the new political economies of
the city, even as the gaonwallahs collectively attempt to retain their localised
autonomy.

By contrast, Chapter 6 tells the story of another kind of control—this time over
bodies, specifically the bodies of the mainly north-eastern tenants who have come
to make Munirka their home in large numbers. While the rental economies of the
village have produced affordable housing spaces for these young people seeking
jobs in Delhi’s expanding service economy, they also face a great deal of racialised
hostility as the disruptive “others,” based on their appearance, manner of dress,
food, etc.

Women in particular are subject to various forms of social surveillance. The

chapter maps various attempts at social management of north-eastern tenants—
seen as purveyors of vice (sexual, drugs and alcohol-related), and also moments of
outright, open violence and hostility, attempting, in part, to link such vigilantism
and violence to the perceived loss of a cultural ethos, including Jat cultures of
masculinity (dabangg hona). Pati argues that this hostility towards their tenants, to
whom the villagers are “obliged” (majboori), as they describe it. To rent to, comes
against a backdrop of their anxieties of identity loss. For, while they have
prospered in the village itself, the village landlords are not seen to have high
sociocultural capital in the larger context of cosmopolitan, urbane Delhi.
The last and final chapter of the book turns to local, urban politics. Although not
stated as a clear objective, in some ways, Pati’s book traces the trajectories of the
villagers, mainly Jat landlords, including their attempts at social mobility, through
changing urban economies. Local politics is another avenue in this journey, it
appears. A presence in the local administrative machinery appears to be critical for
the villagers to both access state resources but also stymie the regulatory intent of
the state. While acknowledging this, Pati’s own emphasis in the chapter is to
consider entries into local politics as a form of social mobility and entrepreneurship
for an increasing number of young people, seeking to make a name for themselves
and acquire social status within the village “community.”

While there has been a long-standing Jat involvement in regional, national, and
Delhi’s politics, what is new here, Pati writes, is the entry of new players, for the
rent economy has democratised hierarchies within the village, with landlords not
restricted to historically affluent or influential families. Indeed, older models of
khap panchayats and chaudhurys, while still important, have also given way to
new forms of politics that include the once marginal others. RWAs have taken over
from khap panchayats in Munirka, for example, as associational collectivities but
must include women and tenants, and bhaichara and kunba networks are replete
with individual rivalries. The villages, it appears, are transformed by rental
economies in multiple ways, including in the relationships within village
communities, despite efforts to project a corporate presence.

Pati’s book is a rigorously researched and documented monograph that clearly

adds to the existing empirical literature on Delhi’s modern urbanisation with its in-
depth study of these two urban villages, presumably representative of dynamics in
other urban villages as well. Her framework of “rent” is also useful, especially in
the contrast she draws between the villages’ rental economy and neo-liberal,
financial capital marked especially by questions of caste, community, community
control and autonomy, and also identity. The ethnographic richness of the text,
however, ensures that these terms themselves—“caste,” “community,” etc—do not
become static, and what is made available is a narrative with multiple nuances and
also one that traces how older socialities have transformed via, and in, the new
urban economy.
It would have been helpful to have an additional analytical frame that could
capture the culturally meaningful and affective qualities of this transformation for
the villagers, just as “rent” as an analytical category captures the play of the
intersection of the political economies of the village and the city. This said, the
book is a welcome addition to the field of urban studies, and its analysis and
analytical foci will surely find usage elsewhere in the contexts of urbanising rural
areas.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/52

Delhi’s Urban Villages

Economies of Rent
Properties of Rent: Community, Capital and Politics in Globalising Delhi by
Sushmita Pati, New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, 2022; pp xxvi +
295, `1,050.

In her book, Properties of Rent: Community, Capital and Politics in Globalising

Delhi, Sushmita Pati delves into the lives and neighbourhoods of Delhi’s urban
villages, with a special focus on Munirka and Shahpur Jat. She does this under the
rubric of “rent,” referring to the fact that since the 1990s, these urban villages have
become critical real estate zones providing housing for low-income migrants in
Munirka as well as crucial space for creative industries, boutiques, and garment
workshops or karkhanas in Shahpur Jat.

The agricultural lands of these erstwhile agrarian villages had already been
acquired for the rapid expansion of the capital at different points after 1947,
leaving only the actual villages’ abadi or settlement areas intact. However, as these
abadi areas were left outside of the city’s post-independence planning by-laws, the
villagers were free to construct as they pleased within the lal dora as it came to be
called. In Pati’s coinage, then, rent refers to the fact that the real estate markets of
these villages remain dominated by their owners—mainly Jat, but also Dalit and
Nai landlords who have come to build buildings of multiple storeys and heights on
their erstwhile homestead lands as demand for cheap residential and commercial
spaces has increased in otherwise, highly regulated and zoned Delhi.
Vernacular Economies

Indeed, the term rent takes on many valances in this book, referring most
prominently to the “vernacular economies” of these villages, where land is
controlled by a few communities, who utilise their community networks to raise
funds and finances, manage state rules and interventions while policing tenants to
ensure that the villages, with their manifold buildings, remain within their grasp.
There are few examples of “outside” private developers in these areas, even as the
mainly Jat landlords have bought lands in other parts of the city and national
capital region where other Jat- and Gujjar-dominated villages remain, within and
through larger community networks and formations. In this, Pati and her book
remind us of the centrality of Jat/Gujjar-dominated villages and their agrarian lands
that undergird the modern metropolis of Delhi and the surrounding National
Capital Region.

Pati’s book is divided into seven chapters. Chapters 1 and 2 are set in the period
before economic liberalisation and tell the history of land acquisition of the
agricultural lands of the two villages, how this was negotiated and disputed by the
villagers, how the land remaining in and around the villages became sites of
occupation (kabza) and speculation, as the villages themselves became a part of an
urbanising landscape. Chapter 2 looks particularly at how villagers came to utilise
their compensation monies and sought access to new urban work, and enterprise in
transport, construction, and other trades, including via obtaining state licences,
seeking to economically diversify once their agricultural lands were gone.

In the post-liberalisation period, these attempts at finding work, jobs and

businesses appear to have given way to the building and formation of dense rental
economies within the lal dora areas of the village, as construction has flourished
with the coming of new, neoliberal capital to the city post-1991, catalysing a rising
demand for cheap rental space.

New Rental Landscape

Chapters 3 and 4 describe the emergence of this new rental landscape in Munirka
and Shahpur Jat. This includes the coming of the “one-room” set as an innovation
in the rental landscape which could be let out to mainly northeastern migrants
looking for cheap housing in Munirka, while in Shahpur Jat, Pati traces the
emergence of the garment industry in the form
of karkhanas and addas (workshops specialising in embroidery), in which legions
of mainly Muslim Bengali craftsperson live and produce high-end cloth and
garments. These are sometimes sold in the gentrified parts of the village on the
outskirts of Shahpur Jat, which has become a site for cafes, the offices of creative
workers and start-ups, restaurants and boutiques.

The landlord/villagers themselves are mainly concerned with building and

rebuilding their real estate to maximise rental incomes, while keeping the state at
bay. As the building in the villages increased, the municipal state became
increasingly concerned with regulating village rental economies, including through
both the threat of demolition and “regularisation,” or post facto legalisation of this
auto-constructed environment. The villagers themselves, Pati writes, remain deeply
suspicious of state moves and involvement, having already ceded their lands for
“planned Delhi” for meagre compensations.

Chapter 5 focuses on how the villagers have succeeded and managed to build their
new rental economy outside of state regulation and formal credit markets. It is in
this chapter that Pati defines the various constituent parts of the vernacular
economies she is tracing through institutions such as the panchayat/resident
welfare associations (RWAs), relations of bhaichara (literally
brotherhood) and kunba (extended family/clan).

Pati conceives of these as pre-neo-liberal forms that transformed in new conditions,

allowing for continued community control over the new rental economy. In this
context, thus, khap panchayats/RWAs appear as cartels, mediating disputes
between village landlords while also allowing for the real estate market to function
as a community-dominated monopoly.

In the absence of formal credit from banks, finances for building are sought
through locally trusted networks, including through kametis (committees), which
allow people to pool together monies through a trusted organiser or “financing,” a
new form of moneylending based on daily/frequent collections allowing for
constant cash liquidity. The clan/extended family or kunba, by contrast, works as a
joint stock company, bringing together unequal stakeholders to produce a corporate
identity, especially towards outsiders. Pati shows, for example, how landlords of
Shahpur Jat came together to shut down efforts by their tenants to organise
themselves and “fix” the village environment. For Pati, one critical difference
between the vernacular economy of rent and neo-liberal financialised capital is
precisely the importance of continued community control, even though the rental
economy of the villages is firmly linked to the vicissitudes of political economies
of globalising Delhi.

Changing Urban Economies

In Chapter 7, the book’s focus shifts to non-Jat communities in the two villages,
namely the Jatavs, Nai, and Balmikis. In tracing their journeys, Pati marks the
divergence between the Jatavs and the Balmikis, in particular. While the Jatavs
have experienced social mobility through their own efforts at political organising,
education, government employment, and increasing participation in the rental
economy, the Balmikis have not fared as well. Jatav/Nai’s success in terms of
becoming landlords has also meant that the dominant Jats of these areas have had
to redefine what community means to accommodate other castes, through new
forms and associations or rubrics such as gaonwallahs (villagers)
or mulnivas (original inhabitants) that are flexible enough to allow for such
accommodations. Indeed, the strength of the volume is in its detailed rendering of
how caste-derived socialities blend with, and into, the new political economies of
the city, even as the gaonwallahs collectively attempt to retain their localised
autonomy.

By contrast, Chapter 6 tells the story of another kind of control—this time over
bodies, specifically the bodies of the mainly north-eastern tenants who have come
to make Munirka their home in large numbers. While the rental economies of the
village have produced affordable housing spaces for these young people seeking
jobs in Delhi’s expanding service economy, they also face a great deal of racialised
hostility as the disruptive “others,” based on their appearance, manner of dress,
food, etc.
Women in particular are subject to various forms of social surveillance. The
chapter maps various attempts at social management of north-eastern tenants—
seen as purveyors of vice (sexual, drugs and alcohol-related), and also moments of
outright, open violence and hostility, attempting, in part, to link such vigilantism
and violence to the perceived loss of a cultural ethos, including Jat cultures of
masculinity (dabangg hona). Pati argues that this hostility towards their tenants, to
whom the villagers are “obliged” (majboori), as they describe it. To rent to, comes
against a backdrop of their anxieties of identity loss. For, while they have
prospered in the village itself, the village landlords are not seen to have high
sociocultural capital in the larger context of cosmopolitan, urbane Delhi.

The last and final chapter of the book turns to local, urban politics. Although not
stated as a clear objective, in some ways, Pati’s book traces the trajectories of the
villagers, mainly Jat landlords, including their attempts at social mobility, through
changing urban economies. Local politics is another avenue in this journey, it
appears. A presence in the local administrative machinery appears to be critical for
the villagers to both access state resources but also stymie the regulatory intent of
the state. While acknowledging this, Pati’s own emphasis in the chapter is to
consider entries into local politics as a form of social mobility and entrepreneurship
for an increasing number of young people, seeking to make a name for themselves
and acquire social status within the village “community.”

While there has been a long-standing Jat involvement in regional, national, and
Delhi’s politics, what is new here, Pati writes, is the entry of new players, for the
rent economy has democratised hierarchies within the village, with landlords not
restricted to historically affluent or influential families. Indeed, older models of
khap panchayats and chaudhurys, while still important, have also given way to
new forms of politics that include the once marginal others. RWAs have taken over
from khap panchayats in Munirka, for example, as associational collectivities but
must include women and tenants, and bhaichara and kunba networks are replete
with individual rivalries. The villages, it appears, are transformed by rental
economies in multiple ways, including in the relationships within village
communities, despite efforts to project a corporate presence.
Pati’s book is a rigorously researched and documented monograph that clearly
adds to the existing empirical literature on Delhi’s modern urbanisation with its in-
depth study of these two urban villages, presumably representative of dynamics in
other urban villages as well. Her framework of “rent” is also useful, especially in
the contrast she draws between the villages’ rental economy and neo-liberal,
financial capital marked especially by questions of caste, community, community
control and autonomy, and also identity. The ethnographic richness of the text,
however, ensures that these terms themselves—“caste,” “community,” etc—do not
become static, and what is made available is a narrative with multiple nuances and
also one that traces how older socialities have transformed via, and in, the new
urban economy.

It would have been helpful to have an additional analytical frame that could
capture the culturally meaningful and affective qualities of this transformation for
the villagers, just as “rent” as an analytical category captures the play of the
intersection of the political economies of the village and the city. This said, the
book is a welcome addition to the field of urban studies, and its analysis and
analytical foci will surely find usage elsewhere in the contexts of urbanising rural
areas.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/52/book-reviews/delhis-urban-
villages.html

The Political Economy of Curricula in Higher

Education Institutions
Three years of the implementation of the National Education Policy 2020 have
witnessed several regulations and guidelines by the University Grants Commission
regarding changes in the curriculum. It is important to examine the implications of
these curricular changes. It is noted that the curriculum, instead of evolving
through scientific inquiry, is influenced by the ideology of the state and the market.
By the “political economy” of the curriculum, I mean the curiosity-based scientific
basis of determining or designing the curriculum for students. It is decided through
a critical examination of knowledge for the benefit of the general public at large,
reflecting the aims of public education. The curriculum is determined by subject
experts and the state plays a role in providing legitimacy to the whole process of
curriculum design and its delivery to the students. However, if the influence of
political power dominates curriculum design instead of scientific inquiry, it leads
to a curriculum that is corrupted by ideology. It is important to understand the
directions of change in curriculum design which are influenced by market forces
rather than the interests of the people and the nation. Curriculum design is also
shaped by the extent of academic freedom. If academic freedom is compromised,
then the process of knowledge generation itself gets mutilated.

The curriculum shapes the young minds of children. They should inculcate values
which are considered important for the progress of a nation. However, there is a
certain degree of indeterminateness regarding the choice of values to be nurtured
among children. Values related to equal citizenship, scientific temperament,
composite culture, values about one’s civic responsibilities, etc, are important to
pass on to the students through the appropriate choice of the curriculum. However,
there are conflicts among these values as well, and the choice of values that need to
be protected is decided through the political process, in particular, and by the
ideology of dominant interests, in general. For instance, there are debates at the
level of school curricula that highlight the validity of these value conflicts
(Bhattacharya 2009). Moreover, value conflicts over the choice of materials in the
curricula of higher education institutions have also been noted in the recent
past.1 The objective of this article is to examine the ideology and politics of the
curriculum in higher education institutions as presented in the National Education
Policy (NEP) 2020 and carried forward by the University Grants Commission
(UGC) in the last three years of the implementation of NEP.

Ideology and Politics of Curricula

Ideology is the weapon of the dominant group to impose certain sets of ideas and
beliefs on others. Politics is the process of glorification of those ideas and beliefs
by the use of power. One of the most important ideological apparatuses is the
curriculum in schools and colleges which can directly influence and dominate the
minds of all and can then be used to mobilise the people. Hence, knowledge and
power can act and interact with each other. Wherever knowledge is scientific and is
backed by reason, knowledge
undergoes a process of transformation through negation and confirmation. Hence,
knowledge acquires a dynamism which makes the process of the development of a
student dynamic in turn. For example, slavery was considered to be appropriate in
ancient Greek society and is no longer justifiable today. Similarly, many women’s
rights that are granted today were denied in the past, accompanied by the
realisation that there cannot be any discrimination on the grounds of sex, caste,
and/or ethnicity.

Hence, knowledge should go through the process of a critical appraisal. It is for

this reason that any scientific knowledge should find a place in the curricula.
Besides, the curricula should always be dynamic, that is, subject to the processes of
negation and confirmation. The curriculum should always remain “young” by
discarding the knowledge that does not stand the test of time.

The NEP 2020 and the recent regulations and guidelines of the UGC point to a
number of ways in which attempts are being made to influence the curricula in
higher education institutions. First, there is a mandate to teach Indian Knowledge
Systems (IKS) and “value-based” education. Second, the autonomy of institutions
is being granted to support market-based curricula. Third, four-year undergraduate
education with multidisciplinary education and multiple entry and exit options is
prescribed, which requires fundamental changes in the curricula. Fourth, outcome-
based education draws attention to a learner-centred curriculum. Fifth, global
citizenship education, social responsibility, community engagement, and
promotion of physical fitness are other prescriptions influencing curriculum design
in higher education institutions.

It is important to note that such top-down prescriptions amount to imposing

ideologies that restrict university autonomy in shaping the curricula based on
scientific inquiry. Let me discuss the varying manner in which higher education
curricula are currently being influenced by dominant ideologies.

IKS and Value-based Curricula

The UGC issued a guideline on the training of university faculty regarding IKS in
February 2023. The guidelines do not define IKS in terms of principles. However,
it mentions field visits to “Temples, Gurukuls, Historical sites, Arts & Crafts
communities, Ayurvedic Healing Centers, Astronomical Observatories”
(UGC 2023a: 4). It also notes revising the UGC syllabus to include IKS. Various
examples of IKS in a multidisciplinary framework have been suggested by
the UGC, such as “the ancient technique of memorization,” sessions on yoga,
meditation, ayurveda, classical music, etc (UGC 2023a: 6).

No knowledge is scientific unless it is verified and critically appraised. Hence, any

mandate on curriculum design coming from the top should be followed with
scientific rigour. Besides, the syllabus smells of the tradition of knowledge
belonging to particular communities and religions in India. Knowledge, that is, the
search for truth, has to be universal, rather than particular. Unscientific knowledge,
based on dominant interests, shall create divisions in society.

The UGC issued the Mulya Pravah 2.0 in May 2023, under which a curriculum for
inculcating human values and professional ethics has been suggested. The very
first objective reads: “Reinstate India’s rich cultural legacy and human values”
(UGC 2023b: 8). This goes along with the objectives relating to professional
ethics, constitutional values, holistic education, etc. Chapter 2 of the guidelines
notes values from Ishopanishad, the Buddha, Vedas, Upanishads, Sri Aurobindo,
etc. The document also refers to the five vows of the Amrit Kaal, that is, the
contemporary period, thus sanctifying the present as a nectar consisting of all
ancient values. The document freely refers to Sanskrit texts. The course structure
suggested in the guidelines also gives primacy to IKS rather than constitutional
values. The independence of scientific values is not stated. Instead, it mentions
“integrating the two methodologies: interiorization process for self-exploration,
and exterior scientific pursuit for the prosperity of world” (UGC 2023b: 27).

When it comes to IKS, it is important to understand what are its basic principles.
Any knowledge that is considered “ancient” should not qualify as being a part
of IKS. The very nature of knowledge demands that it should be scrutinised.
Knowledge, to become a part of the curriculum, has to be tested with the demands
of the time. This is what is denied when it comes to IKS. It is treated as sacrosanct
using a certain belief system, which might come under threat if it is subject to
critical scrutiny. IKS, without proper scrutiny, is then not knowledge. It is an
ideology based on a certain set of ideas that is believed to be “true.” Whenever
there is an attempt to establish IKS not as knowledge but as an ideology, there is
the danger of corrupting the curriculum and, thereby, the minds of the people.

Ideology and Politics of Autonomy

Academic freedom has been a cardinal principle of publicly funded higher

education institutions since the late 18th century Europe. State funding of
universities was universally accepted in the 19th and 20th centuries. The
postcolonial development is also marked by the state generously supporting the
universities. The rationale of academic freedom under state-funded universities
was based on the principle of academic freedom, which, in turn, will generate
scientific knowledge for the good of the people. In practice, however, academic
freedom was granted in varying degrees depending upon the trust built between the
state and the university. During the prevalent ideology of state welfarism, the
politics of the state favoured the discourse on the public funding of education with
varying degrees of control of university governance and a relatively higher degree
of academic freedom. However, a new discourse of “accountability” was started
amid this long period of academic freedom that led the state to enforce stricter
controls on teaching, research, and service functions expected of a teacher.

Hence, a new form of autonomy was granted to the universities with invisible ways
of ensuring accountability from the teachers. The freedom to start a programme,
decide the curricula, hire teachers or foreign faculty, fix fees, determine procedures
of assessment and declaration of results was granted to the institutions. However,
such autonomy also goes along with raising the internal resources to run particular
programmes. It implies a new concept of autonomy, that is devoid of public
funding. Besides, the invisible ways of accounting through ranking and
accreditation of programmes and institutions and academic performance indicators
for the recruitment and promotion of teachers were introduced.

Curricula, teaching, and assessment are supposed to follow the principles of an

“outcomes-based” education. Transparency in governance using public self-
disclosure of information is sought to be achieved. It is interesting to note that a
new discourse of autonomy carries an appeal to academic freedom which
seemingly may find a favour in academia, and hence, it may not face strong
resistance. The state can withdraw the funding or peg the funding to the
conditionalities of performance indicators. The discourse is based on the ideology
of efficiency in governance, teaching, research, and service functions of the
university. The ideology is further imposed through the powers vested in the UGC.

What is important is to underline the point that the new forms of autonomy acts
through the curricular process. If public funding is withdrawn, the institutions have
to charge a user fee from its students, which means that institutions are directly
accountable to the “user” or “consumer” of education. In such a scenario, the
choice of programmes to be delivered shall have to be guided by the preferences of
the users or consumers of the programme. This preference is often guided by the
market demand for jobs. Hence, the choice of a programme to be started is
influenced by market forces.

Besides, employability also becomes an important factor here, both in the choice of
the curriculum as well as teaching, learning, and assessment. The marketability and
employability of a programme demand that its curricular structure is well-
designed. It should cater to the choice of learners. It should also have attractive
content such as videos, animations, and shorter modules. The curricula should be
adapted to skill-building and experiential learning. It finally amounts to the fact
that the curricula support the commodification of higher education. Needless to
say, such a curriculum shall majorly serve the interests of the corporate sector only.
The new ideology of autonomy drives higher education curricula to serve the
market.

Curricula for the FYUP

The NEP 2020 and subsequent UGC notifications in December 2022 suggested a
four-year undergraduate programme (FYUP) with multiple entry and exit options
for the students, allowing certificates, diplomas, and degrees at the end of the first,
second, and third years, respectively. It is important to note that the rigid structure
of the curricula imposed above results in the reduction of specialised knowledge-
based curricula to vocational skill-based curricula, emphasising skill-building,
internships, and value-based education. Such a curricular structure creates a
hierarchy of graduates (certificate, diploma, and degree holders) and suffers from
the danger of creating a reserve army of dropouts and the unemployed. There is
also the challenge of delivering multidisciplinary courses in institutions which are
suffering from a deficit of teachers. To overcome the difficulty of the delivery of
courses in a face-to-face mode due to the shortage of teachers, online preparation
of courses is being suggested under the FYUP (Bhushan 2022).

The idea of the FYUP and multiple entry and exit raises many questions about
specialised versus vocational education, disciplinary versus multidisciplinary
education, face-to-face versus online delivery of courses, and the periodisation of
the course structure. These are difficult questions that can be deliberated upon
based on their merits.

A scientific curricular structure evolves over a period of time to suit the needs of
society. The fixing of the curriculum to cater to the sudden changes introduced by
a new ideology of vocational education under the rubric of multidisciplinarity will
be too complex a task to deal with, given the prevailing architecture of institutions
—the prevalence of single disciplines2 and the small size of the institutions3 with a
severe shortage of teachers.4

Curricular Restructuring and Outcomes-based Education

The UGC issued the learning and outcomes-based curriculum framework for
undergraduate education in 2020 and guidelines for innovative pedagogical
approaches and evaluation reforms in response to the implementation of
the NEP 2020. Both guidelines aim at learner-centred approaches in higher
education. The former led to the learning outcome-based curriculum framework
(LOCF). The latter guidelines talk about innovative pedagogic approaches,
namely, behaviourist, constructivist, and liberationist. How these approaches can
be applied in online or blended modes of teaching is not explained. Even if each
concept is based on some scientific reasoning, its practical validity has to be
ascertained by every teacher.
It is important to understand that using such a curricular restructuring, a teacher is
directed through these guidelines to model pedagogical approaches in teaching and
meeting learning outcomes on their own. In an attempt to introduce the standard
model framework, a teacher loses academic freedom to deal with diverse learners
in terms of their own experience. The rationalisation implicit in introducing a
model curricular framework leads to the loss of any creativity and innovation to be
practised by the teachers. This finally leads to disenchantment and
disempowerment among teachers. In this process, teachers become passive agents,
while regulators become active agents. An externally-directed curriculum has this
effect of power over teachers.

Curricular and Extracurricular Changes

In the last three years of the implementation of the NEP 2020, the UGC has issued
guidelines on global citizenship education, fostering social responsibility and
community engagement, and the promotion of physical fitness. There are
guidelines for a curricular framework for environmental education as well.
The UGC has been writing numerous letters to the universities to celebrate
important days, events, and programmes. Recent announcements include events
and campaigns like Har Ghar Tiranga, Meri Maati Mera Desh, the Partition
Horrors Remembrance Day, the Tomato Grand Challenge, the Festival of
Libraries, the Akhil Bharatiya Shiksha Samagam, etc. These curricular and
extracurricular activities added to the tasks of teachers and students. Many such
celebrations were earlier decided by the universities. Now there is a new trend to
direct universities to celebrate these events. This is why universities are often
forced to perform these activities without any rationale and free discussion.

Conclusions

I hold the view that the political economy of the curricula should have a firm basis
in scientific inquiry in the processes of knowledge production and dissemination.
However, if the curricula are corrupted by an ideology prescribed above, the
degree of autonomy of a university to decide the curricula on scientific terms is
diminished. Its implications are far-reaching. Knowledge is then subordinated to
the influence of power. It also loses its universality and appeal to all sections of
society, thus becoming divisive. Knowledge also becomes static and loses its
dynamism towards progress in the absence of scientific inquiry. Given the presence
of the models of curricula designed from above, teachers become passive agents,
and realising the loss of academic freedom, they become disenchanted and
disempowered.

It has been noted and discussed that in the three years of the implementation of
the NEP 2020 through the active agency of a regulatory body such as the UGC, the
curricula in higher education institutions were not necessarily subjected to
scientific scrutiny. Rather, the curriculum has been affected by dominant ideology
and politics in the following ways: (i) there is an imposition of IKS and values
which reflect dominant interests, culture, language, traditions, and beliefs resulting
in a fragmented understanding of social values and practices; (ii) a newer ideology
of autonomy goes along with the introduction of self-financing courses, which
have implications for a marketable curricular structure and the commodification of
higher education; (iii) the FYUP and multiple entry and exit mandate of
the NEP 2020 and the UGC guidelines lead to a rigid curricular structure to
support vocational higher education; (iv) guidelines for an outcomes-based
education and innovative pedagogy often leads to the deprivation of the autonomy
of the teachers; and (v) there are numerous directions from the UGC to celebrate
days, events, and programmes which add to the curricular and extracurricular tasks
to be undertaken by teachers and students.

The political economy of curricula in higher education institutions has been guided
by ideological shifts in favour of the state and the market. Ideological shifts have
weakened the agency of teachers due to the lack of academic freedom to determine
their curricula. As a result, university curricula have not been serving the interests
of the people and the nation. The academic community must rise to restructure the
curricula based on the principles of scientific temperament and inquiry. Scientific
knowledge must find its place in the curricula.

Notes

1 Note the removal of A K Ramanujan’s essay “Three Hundred

Ramayanas” and Rohinton Mistry’s novel, Such a Long Journey, from the history
syllabus of the University of Delhi and the English syllabus of the University of
Mumbai respectively.

2 According to the All India Survey of Higher Education (AISHE), there

are 11,926 standalone institutions of higher education in India as per the reported
data of 2020–21 (Ministry of Education 2021).

3 The average size of enrolment in colleges is 1,097 as per the reported

data for 2020–21 in the AISHE. Almost 65% of colleges have less than 500
enrolled students (Ministry of Education 2021).

4 The AISHE reports that the average pupil–teacher ratio is 27, which is
often very high in some colleges (Ministry of Education 2021).

References

Bhattacharya, N (2009): “Teaching History in Schools: The Politics of Textbooks

in India,” History Workshop Journal, No 67, pp 99–110.

Bhushan, S (2023): “Four-year Undergraduate Programme: Boon or Bane of the

NEP 2020,” Economic & Political Weekly, Vol 58, No 8,
pp 14–17.

Ministry of Education (2021): All India Survey of Higher Education 2020–21,

Department of Higher Education, New Delhi.

UGC (2023a): “Guidelines for Training/Orientation of Faculty on Indian

Knowledge System,”
https://www.ugc.gov.in/pdfnews/3746302_Guidelines-for-TrainingOrientation-of-
Faculty-on-Indian-Knowledge-System-(IKS).pdf.

— (2023b): “Mulya Pravah 2.0: Inculcation of Human Values and

Professional Ethics in Higher Education Institutions,”
https://www.ugc.gov.in/pdfnews/8799370_Mulya-Parvah_Guideline.pdf.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/47/commentary/political-economy-curricula-
higher-education.html
Of Conflict and Collaboration
Mamata Banerjee and the Making of ‘Franchisee
Politics’ in West Bengal
The transformation of party society in West Bengal under the Trinamool Congress
in which only Mamata Banerjee commands universal loyalty is traced. She has
built an architecture of power that makes extensive political use of governmental
resources, allows local party bosses to run their own fiefdom in exchange of total
allegiance, and plays dangerously with religious, ethnic, and caste identities. On
their part, the enterprising party leaders as “franchisees” use “Brand Mamata” in
their bid to capture and retain territorial power. While such “franchisee politics”
of “non-corporate crony capitalism” triggers unprecedented corruption and
unlimited electoral violence, it also produces an economy requiring cooperation
across religious and ethnic lines as a precondition for meeting people’s livelihood.
By combining partisan conflict with social collaboration on the foundations of
party society, West Bengal’s franchisee politics places a structural deterrence for
the rapidly emergent Bharatiya Janata Party and its politics of religious
polarisation.
The author would like to thank Srirupa Roy for her generous support in co-hosting a conference
with Abdul Matin and the author on present West Bengal politics in Göttingen, Germany, on 22
and 23 June 2023, where a version of this paper was presented. The author is grateful to all the
participants at the conference for their insightful comments and criticisms. “Metamorphoses of
the Political,” M S Merian—R Tagore International Centre for Advanced Studies deserves
gratitude for author’s visitorship at the Centre for Modern Indian Studies, University of
Göttingen, Germany.

West Bengal hosted another blood-soaked panchayat election on 8 July 2023, in

which nearly 50 people died of violence. No other state in the country has recorded
such excessive violence around elections, which has seemingly become a routine
occurrence in West Bengal. Such incidents reportedly fetched 70 lives in 2003,
around 30 each in 2008 and 2013, and spiked to around 50 in 2018, which arguably
marked, until 2023, the most unrestrained rigging in the state’s electoral history. It
is nobody’s claim that such violence is of recent origin or specific to any one
regime in power. Blood kept flowing in successive elections, especially in the rural
polls, as the death tolls remained shockingly high both during the Left Front and
the Trinamool Congress (TMC) periods.1 Such recurrence encourages one to ask if
there is something unique in West Bengal’s political ecosystem demanding
relentless bloodshed. What makes the stakes so high for these polls that make
violence the final arbiter? Has the character of violence been the same during the
Left Front as under the TMC? How does one contextualise such violence in West
Bengal’s historically evolved political, economic, or cultural structures of power?
This paper closely examines some key features of West Bengal’s polity from the
Left Front to the TMC years, including the sudden emergence of the Bharatiya
Janata Party (BJP), keeping these questions in view.

Violence and politics have a long confluence in West Bengal, as scholars variedly
searched for its roots in anti-colonial terrorism, communist extremism, or
Bengalis’ devotion to Shakti as a religious cult, etc. However, there is no denying
that by trumping all other forms of social violence, partisan violence has taken
almost an identitarian significance in the state. This is anathematic to the liberal
view of democratic competition that treats party affiliation as voluntary, unlike
one’s ascriptive “belonging” to a race, caste, or ethnic group. In West Bengal’s
political field, however, one belongs to the party. Such a sense of belonging
remained more or less stable for about three and a half decades of the Left Front
rule. Once its government fell, there was almost immediately a lateral shift of
many who were aligned to the Left Front to the new incumbent, the TMC. With the
rise of the BJP, however, the pattern changed further, as there is now a two-way
traffic between the TMC and the BJP, not only of the workers but also of the
leaders and elected officials. Yet, people sacrificed their lives in the name of their
parties.2

For a clue to understanding why the political parties remained so central to

people’s lives, one must understand the rationale of the left’s governmental
intervention in West Bengal. The state hosted a series of peasant movements in the
late colonial and postcolonial decades against the landlords in demand for land to
the tiller and a just share of produce for the cultivating tenants. This worked as the
precondition for the Left Front’s most substantial land and agrarian reforms at the
turn of the 1980s. Land beyond the legal ceiling was seized from the landlords for
distribution among the land poor, and the landowners employing share tenants
were forced to part with the legally mandated share. It was beyond the existing
civil administration or the police to ensure these measures. The Left Front
instituted elected panchayat at the village, block, and district levels for the first
time in the country to engage the majority poor in the conduct of governmental
matters. This was done by mobilising the parties of the Left Front—the Communist
Party of India (Marxist) (CPI[M]) in particular—to make use of force and violence
or the threat of violence for executing a host of pro-poor laws.

The educationally and culturally equipped local CPI(M) leaders, many of whom
were primary schoolteachers, worked as the rural poor’s interface with the
administration. Such initiatives helped the CPI(M) win respect and authority and
establish itself as a hegemonic force. However, after the initial reforms, the party
prioritised social stability and re-election and turned itself into a managerial outfit.
As agrarian stagnation set in and West Bengal’s economy suffered a systemic
deindustrialisation, the party—now faced with rising popular discontent—trained
its dominance against the “unruly” and the “recalcitrant” who could endanger
social peace and defy its order. Dominance substituted hegemony as the party
sought to tighten its control over society and maintained the status quo until,
following a series of blunders in its attempts to acquire land for industry, the
governing left was rejected by a majority. In its moments of triumph as well as of
defeat, by placing the party at the centre of the lifeworld and livelihood of the rural
folks, the CPI(M) created a form or site for popular politics that one may call
“party society.”3

The TMC changed it all. It inherited the left’s party society without itself being a
disciplined and regimented party like the CPI(M). Instead, the TMC was organised
around the charismatic personality of a single leader—Mamata Banerjee—one of
the very few women politician from South Asia who made it this big without the
help of any dynastic lineage or affiliation to a male partner in politics. Mamata
Banerjee carried the burden of the party on her own shoulders. However, in an
organisation without a clear hierarchy of authority or structure of command in
which she alone is the leader who receives universal loyalty, Mamata Banerjee
reached out to various social constituencies and spatial localities via the existing
organisational set-ups of different caste, religious, or ethnic groups by striking a
direct and personal relationship with their leaders. Her incredible charisma earned
over the years as a crusader who decimated the seemingly unshakeable CPI(M)
behemoth made her an attractive ally for the community leaders who were but
marginal figures in the left’s party society. More crucially, Mamata Banerjee
conveyed to the local leaders and her party functionaries that they are allowed to
freely cash in on her charisma and expand their influence in exchange for an
unquestionable loyalty to her leadership, and to her alone. In outsourcing social
control to community leaders and local control to grassroots bosses of the party, I
argue, Mamata Banerjee’s TMC adopted a franchisee model of politics in which
the brand of her party and her charisma are offered to the local party bosses for
reaping benefits ranging from an electoral mandate to financial profit in legal or
illegal business ventures.

Over the years, such “franchisee politics” of Mamata Banerjee’s “brand party” has
triggered two conflicting trends. First, the unimpaired accumulative practices of the
local TMC leaders invariably depleted their popular legitimacy as Mamata
Banerjee had to announce before every recent election that she was the sole
candidate contesting from all seats (PTI 2016). Second, a local chieftain of
the TMC cannot but maintain dominance without absolute control over territorial
constituencies. Any challenge from within or without the party must be eliminated.
These factors both exalt territory as a space for unaccounted business deals and
objectify people as silent voters obliged to pay back for the benefits they received
from the party and the government. Any change in this arrangement is perceived as
threatening, to be treated with severe violence and suppression. It is the structural
mechanism of such violence that determines franchisee politics of the TMC as a
brand party in West Bengal today, which is markedly different from class or party
violence of party society in the Left Front years. While violence in a party society,
at least before 2007, could be tempered by the CPI(M) leaders, the top leadership
of the TMC has little control over the behaviour of the Frankenstein-like franchisee
it has created. However, the top leadership collects all the benefits that these
franchisees deliver from the bottom up.

The franchisee mode has made the TMC vulnerable. Its leaders’ voracious appetite
for material gains has made transactional interests undermine even a pretence of
ethical politics, straining the party’s emotive bonding with the people. The BJP,
with its communal messages and the advantage of union government apparatuses,
exploited this opening by posing as a powerful ideological and trustworthy
alternative to the TMC and managed to drive the left out of the opposition space in
West Bengal’s traditionally bipolar politics. However, as we shall see, franchisee
politics and its transactional character put a structural limit on the BJP’s ability to
thrive by drawing a wedge between voters on religious lines in West Bengal. The
rest of this paper explores various ramifications of franchisee politics in four
related sections: populism and government, entrepreneurial party, community
outreach, and polarisation limits.

Populism and Government

Populism involves a complex play of power, especially in a postcolonial society in

the neo-liberal times. As mentioned before, Mamata Banerjee is arguably the sole
self-made woman leader who carried her populist appeal from the opposition to the
government. Two recent studies have offered accounts of her populism as a woman
leader of consequence and the discursive field created by her self-fashioning
among her fans and critiques (Nielsen 2016; Chaudhury 2022). My focus here is
on the peculiar character of Mamata Banerjee’s governmental populism. The idea
of governmental populism in postcolonial conditions is eloquently elaborated by
Partha Chatterjee (2019: 141–44) in his I Am the People: Reflections on Popular
Sovereignty Today. It involves the state’s political management of large marginal
groups in the informal economies or the domain of non-corporate capital with
subsidies and allowances while the big capital gets a prime place in the
management of the economy. Although it mandates subjecting governmental
spending for the poor with a favourable tax regime for the corporates, the
governmental populist leader in a poor country prefers not to be perceived as
having any proximity with big capital or being a suit-boot ki sarkar. Rather he or
she as a chaiwallah or messiah in rubber sandals pits the people against the elite to
conceal the real network of accumulation but, ironically, in so doing, also reaffirms
the idea of “popular sovereignty” which poses a potential threat to the wedlock of
profit and politics.
After defeating the Left Front in a populist upsurge against the forced acquisition
of farmland, Mamata Banerjee formed the government of Ma-Mati-Manush. Taken
from a popular folk theatre of the 1970s, the template carried a sense of familial
care and struggle that resonated with the emotions of West Bengal’s rural and
urban poor. Once in government, she issued a slew of welfare measures for
women, students, farmers, and the sick. Packaged as a gift from her, these schemes
are largely inclusive. They include consumables like free or cheap foodgrains,
consumer goods such as bicycles or tablet computers, and cash supports such as
scholarships, stipends, pensions, and healthcare in private hospitals. These are
genuine benefits for more than 70% of the population, which naturally gave
Mamata Banerjee an electoral edge over the opposition until 2021. While, in their
speed of delivery and coverage, West Bengal never had such a spectrum of
benefits, doubts remained. How can this be squared with the state’s income from
its own taxes as well as central allocations?

A quick look at the balance sheets of the state budget over the last several years
gives one a sense of the crisis. In the past five years, West Bengal’s debt burden
has grown by 48%, with a phenomenally high 23% rise during the pandemic
years.4 An Reserve Bank of India estimate shows that just four schemes—
Lakshmir Bhandar, Krishak Bandhu, Kanyashree Prakalpa, and Rupashree
Prakalpa—eat up 23.8% of the revenue that the state earns from its own sources
and 9.5% of its total revenue. In 2022–23, the per capita debt burden in West
Bengal was around `58,000. Unlike two other welfare-rich states, Tamil Nadu and
Kerala, earnings from own revenue did not have any rapid rise in West Bengal, nor
did it have a proven system where such schemes are historically integral to the
governmental rationalities. In the face of such a crisis, the right-wing populists
usually brand the salaried middle classes in the public sector and organised the
working class as the enemies of the people for eating excessively into the state’s
resources. They also vilify the migrants and minorities for putting an illegitimate
burden on the state. The left-wing populists, on the other hand, target big capital
and large corporations for not sharing enough of their wealth. Mamata Banerjee
had a limited choice. West Bengal is a big-capital-deprived state, and its organised
working class is dramatically depleted. Her targets are the salaried middle classes,
teachers, and other government servants.

Thousands of government positions are vacant for years; permanent jobs are turned
contractual. The state government failed to pay Dearness Allowance (DA) to its
employees and pensioners, which is pending since 2006. A recent statement of the
Joint Struggle Forum of the State Employees pointed out that in contrast to 14
major states in which the DA rates are 30%–38%, the West Bengal government
paid a measly 3% until March 2023 and has revised it to just 6% since then. When
asked for an explanation at a press conference, Mamata Banerjee predictably pitted
her rural constituency against the government employees. “You want me to stop
Lakshmir Bhandar to raise their salary? Over my dead body,” she yelled
(PTI 2023). “If the state government employees want more DA, let them take up
central government jobs,” suggested one of Mamata Banerjee’s senior ministers.

Such an attitude to the state employees has larger implications for understanding
the changing power dynamics in West Bengal. In the time of the Left Front, the
salaried government employees and schoolteachers had large unions and a
powerful voice in policy matters. In casting its initial hegemony over party society,
I have shown elsewhere, the primary schoolteachers in the rural areas as local
leaders of the left parties played a mediatory role between contesting classes such
as landowners, tenants, and farmworkers and educated them in the art of
government (Bhattacharya 2004: 139–64). Over the years, however, the leadership
changed hands as the schoolteachers started affording a lifestyle unreachable for
the average villagers, and a new class of rural entrepreneurs emerged from the
middle and middle-rich peasant classes investing small agrarian surplus in informal
trade and other non-farm businesses. This new powerful class that captured
the CPI(M) at the ground level during the last decade of the Left Front grew in
strength over the years as it now feeds into the local leadership of the TMC made
of the local government contractors, petty realtors, moneylenders, ration shop
dealers, business persons selling inputs such as fertilisers and seeds, truck and bus
owners, tractor rentiers, suppliers of construction materials, timber merchants,
plywood manufacturers, rice mill owners, money traders, grocery owners, etc. This
also indicated a shift from an upper-caste cultural elite class to a backward caste
leadership more tuned to mass culture coeval to the rise of the TMC. Over the
years, the class of local entrepreneurs grew in size, wealth and power, taking over
the local party with lasting effects.

Entrepreneurial Party

As mentioned earlier, Mamata Banerjee’s TMC is a porous and organisationally

dispersed party. Any grassroots member is allowed to contest even for a position in
the party’s national executive committee. In continuity with the Congress tradition,
the parliamentary wing of the party gets more prominence than the organisational
wing and the socio-economic status of a person determines a person’s chances of
getting nomination in general elections. Especially since the 2009 Lok Sabha
elections, when the party began to taste real power, prominent figures from the
worlds of business, films, theatre, arts, and literature have been frequently
nominated to contest even from locations they had no prior attachment with.
Decisions like who would preside over the party’s district, block, or village
committees are usually made from above. Indeed, this helps the supreme leader run
her personal writ over the party in which the ultimate debt for a position of power
is dedicated to her. Over the last few years, her nephew, Abhishek Banerjee, with
the help of Prashant Kishor and his team, is trying to work out an alternative
hierarchy for the party in the hope of holding it together when Mamata Banerjee’s
charismatic pull could no longer be availed. However, the effort has created much
confusion and yielded questionable success.

Therefore, once in government, the TMC was faced with a central problem. In
West Bengal’s party society framework that it inherited from the past,
organisational control inevitably meant an authoritative hold over localities,
neighbourhoods, booths, and even families. It involves the management of
micropower at the level of the base. If any party can hold on to this—by consent or
force—it is difficult to debase that party. It works quite like mangroves in the
Sundarbans, which, with their deep roots, not only prevent soil erosion but also
help sedimentation as they take tidal submergence and brace the waves. Likewise,
a locally entrenched party is difficult to be uprooted unless there is a wave election
of a major magnitude. However, the problem with the TMC is that unlike
the CPI(M), it does not have a disciplined structure of command and is hemmed
only by Mamata Banerjee’s charisma. So, to replicate the “estuarian ecosystem” of
party society, it had to rely on the emergent leadership of the local entrepreneurs,
the new party bosses at the grassroots. Coming not from a segment rich in cultural
capital which ensured mobility for the old elite, the emergent elite relies much
more on its financial clout and the spirit of enterprise, demanding cooperation with
allies and elimination of rivals in both economy and polity. The TMC’s top
leadership manages rivalries at two levels of business and of institutional power in
politics. We will discuss the nature of business deals shortly, but institutional
management is showing signs of a fissure. In the recent panchayat election, for
instance, a far greater number of candidates from the TMC fielded nomination (as
independents) than is officially mandated by the party. Local and district leaders
defied the party, made public criticisms of the leadership, and even resigned from
the party. Worse, in factional clashes, several TMC workers got killed. Two of
them were shot dead by their fellow partymen as they were seated in a meeting for
the selection of candidates for the village panchayat months before the election
(Hindustan Times 2023).

In such an organisational set-up, business and politics, cash, and power cannot but
get integrated into each other at the lower rungs. It offers a model of crony
capitalism of the non-corporate kind. It serves a need economy but, at the same
time, is closely linked to the products, goods, and services of big capitalist
enterprises both as a consumer and as a supplier of raw and intermediary materials.
So, unlike what Kalyan Sanyal imagined, it is not a domain of non-capital. Nor is it
based primarily on the cooperative spirit of catering to the livelihood demands of
the population, as Partha Chatterjee (2008) had suggested in one of his influential
essays on Sanyal’s (2007) intervention. It is highly competitive, so much so that
killings and violence work here as the common currencies for transaction along
with cooperation and trust. It truly represents a socially un-hegemonised yet
economically integrated underbelly of India’s massive economic transformation
from a dirigiste to an entrepreneurial political economy. This segment belonging
mostly to the backward classes with a huge aspiration for an urban consumer
lifestyle does not necessarily hold the bhadralok as its sole model for emulation.
Rather in its eclectic gathering of cultural resources from the Hindi entertainment
industry to English-medium private education, it represents an emergent class with
cravings at once for recognition and defiance. While it constitutes the backbone of
the TMC, the BJP is trying to win it over with Hindutva nationalism so that its
organisation in West Bengal gains some solidity.

While such local leadership proved as an asset for the TMC’s initial success, it is
now also a moral liability for the party due to its aggressive misappropriation and
accumulation. People buy their way into remunerative positions, be it a
government job, a party post, or a candidacy for the panchayat elections. The
Calcutta High Court has recently cancelled the government’s appointments of
32,000 primary schoolteachers for not having requisite qualifications.5 These
appointments were allegedly made for bribes. While salaried jobs pay well and
ensure a middle-class lifestyle, placement in the party or the panchayat enables the
incumbent to make money from government contracts and access locally available
natural resources such as land, sand, silt, stone, timber, or coal. Few projects can
take off without greasing the local leaders (who form cartels for the supply of
labour and raw materials known as “syndicates”) with “cut money” so much so
that after the drubbing in the 2019 Lok Sabha elections, Mamata Banerjee had to
make a public announcement for the return of such money (Chatterjee 2019).
Pilferage from government’s schemes is a routine affair, including from the
Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA) and
the Awas Yojana (Saha 2023). Some `7,500 crore are withheld by the union
government for MGNREGA work, of which `2,744 crore are the workers’ dues
(Deuskar 2023). In my fieldwork, I found that the workers had to pay a cut to the
contractors from their earnings under the MGNREGA and leave their job cards
with the latter as a guarantee. Many also made no fuss about any cut because they
never worked; the work shown as done by them was accomplished by wheel
loaders (locally called “JCB machines”).

Extraction and marketing of natural resources and minerals indicate corrupt

business practices of a different order. Issues are rather vexing here. Take the case
of the informal coal mining in the Raniganj-Jharia belt run by the local mafia under
the protective umbrella of the police and the TMC. The local poor and the landless
crucially depend on such mining for livelihood. In deciding what is right or wrong,
ethno-geographer Kuntala Lahiri-Dutta (2007) raised some critical questions:
“Who owns the mineral resources, since when and why, who controls their use,
and who is looting and under what circumstances?” Formal mining rights are
allotted exclusively to private corporations or public sector behemoths, over which
the locals have no control. By contrast, what goes as “illegal” is locally and
informally managed. It is more labour-intensive, generates higher employment for
local villagers and possibly offers better opportunities for negotiating terms of
services. In West Bengal, the dominant party always had a role to play here.
The CPI(M), for instance, managed the supply line for workers through the Centre
of Indian Trade Unions (CITU). However, while coal extraction in informal
mining benefits the community in part, its marketing is entirely privatised and
brings profit only for the mafia-owner of the so-called mining “rights.” The owner,
in turn, retains such rights by muscle power and sharing part of the profit with the
police, the babus and the netas upward. While the CPI(M) netas primarily supplied
labour and collected cuts from the profit made by the mining bosses,
the TMC netas themselves are the mining bosses.

West Bengal, with its flourishing micro, small and medium enterprise (MSME)
sector, second only to Uttar Pradesh in the number of units and people employed,
is a fertile ground for informal economy. With no growth in manufacturing in
comparison to the industrially advanced states and agriculture receiving no new
institutional initiative for boosting production, the small and medium service and
production units constitute the backbone of the state’s non-farm sector. The sector
is fluid and unpredictable, and the TMC’s connection with the local economy
makes it contentious, if not immoral. With the rising intra-party violence and
demonstrated wealth, the TMC may be losing its grip over the people. In March
2022, for instance, a family of eight were burnt to death in Bogtui village of
Birbhum to avenge the killing of Badu Sheikh who was the Upapradhan of nearby
Barshal village panchayat. Both the killers and the killed were affiliated to
the TMC and the murders resulted from a dispute over the share of illegal stone
quarries and sand mining in Birbhum (IANS 2023). These leaders are attracted to
politics primarily for profit. With the BJP’s recent expansion, they are not chary of
spending money on building Hanuman temples or funding Ram Navami
celebrations. Invested heavily in these leaders for maintaining local control, the
base of the TMC looks increasingly tenuous and dangerously overlapped with that
of an emergent BJP.

There exists a peculiar similarity between the TMC and the BJP in their economic
governmentality. Both have initiated a process of fusing business with politics,
profit with public action, and crony capitalism with populism. However, they differ
in their sites of intervention. While the BJP does so at the top, at the level of
monopolistic corporate capital, the TMC—as I have suggested above—presents
cronyism for non-corporate capital at the base level of the informal economy.
However, when capital mixes with power, the gospel of the free market dissolves
and absolute political control over a territory becomes necessary to transfer public
resources into private possessions. The BJP makes sure that its chosen business
houses get the best bidding opportunities as docks, airports, coal mines, airways, or
transport infrastructure change hands from the public to the private. Similarly,
the TMC ensures that its party franchisee owners at the ground level retain their
unencumbered dominance over a territory to extract and market low-rung resources
such as sand, soil, timber, and coal or run contracts for government jobs and public
spending. In both cases, political power demands an unfettered expansion by any
means, such as suppressing opposition or poaching elected members from rival
parties or even from alliance partners. Economic expansionism and political
absolutism triumph. So, the BJP orchestrates defections in different states,
the TMC poaches the lone Congress MLA within months of his election, and
Mamata Banerjee predicts in an interview on the eve of the panchayat election that
voting for the opposition makes little sense for the electorate since candidates from
all parties would anyway join the TMC after the election. In this game of power,
territory is for possession and people are simply objects required to be managed by
targeted munificence, so that they stay calm, callous, or collusive on the voting
day.

Community Outreach

Devoid of a well-heeled organisation in party society, Mamata Banerjee chose to

rely on the available community organisations for her party’s outreach. She drew
her party closer to Matua, Rajbanshi, Gorkha, Adivasi, and Muslim organisations.
With many unfulfilled demands, these groups and sects remained marginal during
the long rule of the Left Front. Somewhat in tune with the Third International,
the CPI(M)’s official line was that the issues of social injustice or cultural
marginality were derivatives of class inequality and, therefore, could be resolved
only by establishing workers’ control over the means of production. “There are two
castes in Bengal,” as a septuagenarian Jyoti Basu was quoted to have remarked
once, “the rich and the poor.” Consequently, the CPI(M) treated the community
demands of these groups as unworthy of independent attention. Mamata Banerjee
tried to fill this void by hemming these communities in a collective frontier against
the Left Front with the promise of greater recognition and representation. Her aim
was to turn the TMC into a nodal party for diverse religious, caste, and ethnic sects
and their community organisations.

Mamata Banerjee famously courted the “Baroma” of Thakurnagar and her Matua
Mahasangha. Matuas make a sizeable Namasudra or Dalit sect with a substantial
population concentrated in southern and eastern West Bengal. They demanded
more cultural recognition and steadily built their political solidarity primarily to
demand the amendment of the Citizenship (Amendment) Act (CAA), 2003, which
treated migrants from Bangladesh as illegal after 1971. Mamata Banerjee
successfully mined their sentiment: “I shall work for the Matuas as long as I am
alive,” she remarked in 2009. “I was moved when the Baroma told me how her
people were being looked down upon as most of them belonged to the lower
castes.”6 The Baroma’s elder son and Sanghadhipati of Matua Mahasangha, Kapil
Krishna Thakur, was made a TMC candidate and he won from Bangaon in the Lok
Sabha elections of 2014. As part of her community overreach, Mamata Banerjee
also managed to make Bimal Gurung of Gorkha Janmukti Morcha, which was with
the National Democratic Alliance (NDA), join the newly formed Gorkhaland
Territorial Administration in 2012 and drop his call for immediate separation. The
Adivasis had put up a resistance against police excesses in Jangalmahal by forming
Santrash Birodhi Janasadharaner Committee (People’s Committee against Police
Atrocities) in the twilight years of the Left Front. Chatradhar Mahato, its leader,
who was close to Mamata Banerjee, joined the TMC in 2020. She worked closely
with the Rajbanshi people in northern West Bengal and their demand for cultural
autonomy as well as regional development. Their party, the Kamtapur People’s
Party, fought as an ally of the Jharkhand Mukti Morcha in 2011, the latter in
alliance with the BJP. With her promise to recognise the Kamtapuri language and
develop its scripts, Mamata Banerjee, by 2016, enlisted the support of its leader,
Atul Roy.

The TMC’s most dramatic outreach was to the Muslim community. Muslims make
close to 30% of the state’s population, the largest minority group speaking the
state’s dominant language anywhere in the country. Concentrated in six districts
with a population share of 42%, the Muslims can determine the fate of 40% of 294
assembly segments in West Bengal. The Left Front parties used to receive
substantial support from the Muslim voters, who never constituted a homogeneous
population group. The support started to wane after the Sachar Committee (2006)
report was published, which revealed, among many markers of the community’s
backwardness, its under-representation in government services. The Left Front
government attempted to assuage such feelings by hurriedly implementing the
suggestions of the Ranganath Misra Commission (2007) to add Muslim groups to
the OBC category. However, such steps were considered “too little, too late.”7

Mamata Banerjee stepped in with her promise of doing “much more” and gained
support from powerful Pirzada Toha Siddiqui of Furfura Sharif, the country’s
second most important mazar, and Siddiqullah Chowdhury, leader of the largest
organised body of the Bengali Muslims, Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind. Toha Siddiqui said,
after felicitating her before a large crowd in Furfura Sharif (April 2010), “I can
only assure Mamata that of the 30 million Muslims in the state, at least 25 million
are on her side.” The TMC’s proximity with Jamiat Ulema-e-Hind intensified over
the years resulting in Chowdhury joining Mamata Banerjee’s ministry in 2016. For
Mamata Banerjee, who was in the NDA when the Gujarat massacre happened, this
was more than she could wish for. On her part, she went overboard to woo the
religious Muslims. When the United Progressive Alliance (UPA) brought a bill to
the Rajya Sabha in March 2010, reserving 33% seats for women in the state and
national legislatures, the TMC—after consulting with Jamiat and the All India
Muslim Personal Law Board—staged a walkout before the bill was taken for
voting on the alleged ground that no quota was kept for Muslim women. The same
year, the TMC MPs demanded that the government paid salaries
to imams and muezzins as the Supreme Court suggested in a 1993 order. This, they
argued, was needed to allay the financial distress faced by 56,000 imams and
muezzins in West Bengal. Within two years of coming to power,
the TMC government indeed started an imam bhata.

In 2010, the railway ministry put out full-page advertisements in leading Kolkata
dailies, showing photograph of Mamata Banerjee, then the railway minister of
the UPA-II government, wearing a headscarf and facing her palms up together in
the shape of seeking dua.

The background contained Islamic motifs like the crescent moon, a star, and the
outlines of a mosque. The advertisements promoted railway projects inaugurated in
West Bengal under slogans such as “Joy comes alive on Eid—A real development
indeed” and “Nursing College in Garden Reach—Railway’s Gift on Eid.” Thus,
railway project executed by the ministry were projected and portrayed as Mamata
Banerjee’s more or less personal gift to West Bengal’s Muslims. (Nielsen 2011)

Community overreach by a catch-all party like the TMC has its limits. It can face
resistance from powerful community organisations that have their own agenda and
priorities. Besides, when the electoral instrumentality of such exercise is laid bare,
the community leaders themselves are subjected to interrogation by their own
constituents. Slowly, but steadily, the TMC is facing similar challenges. The
Muslims are showing signs of reluctance to back the TMC as a block after the
2021 assembly elections, as the by-elections in Sagardighi and Ballygunge
indicate. Bimal Gurung swapped sides and aligned with the BJP, and so did the
Rajbanshi movement for a separate Kamtapur state; the Matua community got split
in the middle with divided loyalty, and the Kurmis are agitating for ST status as
they are pitted against the Adivasis. Finding the ethnic and religious groups
unreliable in the long run, Mamata Banerjee has turned to the neighbourhood youth
clubs, which are now being wooed with favours and funds. In 2021, she
gave `50,000 to each club for organising Durga Puja, West Bengal’s greatest
religious festival, and then raised the amount to `60,000 in 2022. Around `250
crore of the state’s revenue spent every year on this head is justified as giving a
boost to the state’s artisan economy. State patronage and sponsorship for several
other (mostly Hindu) melas and festivals have gained momentum (Guha Thakurta
2021). More than launching a politics of misrecognition (Nath 2018) or applying
an anaesthetic balm on the pain of the deprived, these initiatives peddle a soft
Hindutva line and promote state-sponsored cultural collectives as a substitute for
party organisation.8

In contrast to pure instrumental appropriation, the BJP is attempting ideological

incorporation by configuring an alternative narrative of Hindu victimhood. A new
equation is emerging between the subaltern and the Hindutva forces, which is
neither the sole initiative of the subaltern groups, as suggested by “subaltern
Hindutva,” nor an instrumental manipulation of BJP by these groups, as suggested
by some other scholars (Kumar 2021). A new ideological alchemy is sought to be
generated within a Hindutva ecosystem with the aim of polarising the society. We
now turn to that.

Polarisation Limits

In 2016, the BJP had a bad election in the state. It won only three seats, and its vote
share shrank by 6 percentage points compared to the 2014 Lok Sabha elections.
After 2016, the party made some swift organisational changes. It inducted Mukul
Roy, the general secretary of the TMC, into the party. Dilip Ghosh, a somewhat
brazen and muscular political figure, was made the party’s state president, and the
party drew strength from an increasing number of communal tensions and clashes
in the state. Major incidents were reported from Kaliachak (Malda, 3 January
2016), Ilambazar (Birbhum, March 2016), Chandrakona (West Midnapore, 2 June
2016), Hazinagar and Baduria (North 24 Parganas, 2 July 2017), where people
were battered, killed, and property destroyed.

Claiming that Mamata Banerjee is guilty of “Muslim appeasement,” a charge that

stuck due to her visible proximity to Muslim clerics, the RSS spread rapidly in the
state (Mondal 2018). Between 2013 and 2017, the organisation managed to double
the number of its shakhas from 750 to 1,500. Of them, an overwhelming number—
around 900—was in the districts of North and South 24 Parganas, Kolkata,
Howrah, Hooghly, Purba Medinipur and Paschim Medinipur. It was reported that
the RSS-affiliated schools also grew fast in West Bengal; 330 such schools were
set up admitting more than 66,500 students. A senior functionary of the RSS south
Bengal chapter told me in an interview (April 2023), “we have our affiliates in
every political party, including the TMC. But we noticed that Mamata Banerjee
has taken her proximity to the Muslims to a new height. We had to react.” Ram
Navami and Hanuman Jayanti celebrations were held with huge fanfare, and
communal provocations were systematically orchestrated in their wake. “Jai Shree
Ram” drove out “Inqilab Zindabad,” and scores of Hanuman temples sprang up in
various locations, and the local businesses poured money into them.9 There was
little doubt that the political ecosystem began to favour the BJP as the emergent
opposition.

The hugely rigged panchayat election in 2018, in which the TMC violently barred
scores of left and Congress candidates even to contest, was an additional trigger for
the BJP’s rise in West Bengal. With the TMC winning a record 34.21% of seats
without a contest, the decimation of the left and the Congress created a large void
in the space of the opposition in the state. In a macabre show of muscle politics,
the TMC unleashed its workers to occupy Congress and left party offices, drove
functionaries of these parties out of their localities, and attacked them physically.
In places where the left or the Congress managed to win seats, their members were
made to switch sides and join the TMC either with the aid of inducement or threat.
A significant number of anti-TMC voters sensed the futility of voting for the
existing opposition parties as they were incapable of protecting themselves, let
alone their supporters. The search was on for a bigger stick to combat the stick of
the TMC. With Mamata Banerjee aggressively playing her community cards and
her party suppressing West Bengal’s traditional opposition, a large section of left
voters began to find new comfort in the ruling party at the centre, which was
equipped with the governmental capacity to teach the TMC a lesson. Even in
places where the CPI(M) had some influence in the panchayats or municipalities,
its long-standing voters felt the need to vote for the BJP simply to resist
the TMC onslaught.10 To ward off the aggression of the local tyrant, a supposedly
greater tyrant was invited from afar. With the Hindu voters gravitating towards
the BJP, the Muslim voters had little choice but to consolidate behind Mamata
Banerjee who alone could take on the might of the Hindutva party on the rise.
In the Lok Sabha elections of 2019, the BJP marked a meteoric rise in the state. It
won 18 of West Bengal’s 42 Lok Sabha seats, up from just two in 2014 when 21 of
its candidates lost their deposits. Its vote share crossed 40%, a rise from 17% five
years ago. The TMC won 22 seats with a little above 43% votes, and the Congress
bagged two with 5.5% votes. The Left Front failed to win any seats and got just
7.5% votes, a drop from 30%. The rise in BJP’s vote share (23%) perfectly
corresponded with the drop in the left’s vote share (22%). A new polarisation was
complete with the BJP as its net gainer. This resulted also from the rising
communal chasm that was created in the state in 2014. About 25 incidents of
communal flare-ups were reported in 2014, and 27 in 2015. These were shockingly
high numbers not only compared to the Left Front years but also to the initial years
of the TMC rule.11 Every Ram Navami rally, every Muharram gathering or Eid
namaz in public turned into a potential source of trouble. Expectation was rife that
in the forthcoming state election in 2021, the growing communal division would
help the BJP defeat the TMC, which was anyway burdened with myriad corruption
charges.

Further polarisation set in between 2019 and 2021. Armed with

the CAA and NRC, Amit Shah was bent on ridding the country of “termites” aka
“illegal migrants” (Ghoshal 2019). This obviously created a deep sense of unease
and anxiety among West Bengal’s vast Muslim population. As in the rest of the
country, anti-CAA and anti-NRC protests spread in West Bengal bringing the
Muslim youth and women out on the streets along with workers and sympathisers
of other non-BJP parties such as the TMC, the Congress, and the left. Of these,
the TMC was an obvious choice for the Muslims, the one which could give a
decent fight against the BJP’s steady ascendence. Consequently, the Muslim voters
made the strategic choice of consolidating behind the TMC; as much as 75% of
Muslims voted for the party in 2021.12 This further diminished the Congress and
the left parties which used to receive endorsement from the community until 2016.

In the run-up to the 2021 elections, the BJP leaders sounded lethal and aggressive
on issues such as nationalism, patriotism, Muslim appeasement, and all that could
galvanise and strengthen its new-found base among all sections of Hindu voters.
Claiming that the party was confident of winning at least 200 of the 294 assembly
seats, Amit Shah raised the slogan, Unishe half, Ekushe saaf (Halved in 19,
rebuffed in 21). Several important TMC leaders switched loyalty and joined the
Hindutva party. A large section of the media and political commentators assumed
that the coming of the BJP to Nabanna was almost inevitable. However, this did
not happen. The BJP polled 38% votes to win only 77 seats to the TMC’s 215 seats
and 45% vote share. Four aspects worked against the BJP.

First, the sheer number of Muslim voters which constitute around 30% of the total
electorate. A consolidation of this segment required the BJP to wrest at least 65%–
70% Hindu votes to get a winning total of 42%–45% votes in a widely bipolar
contest. This proved to be an onerous task. Second, the task was made further
difficult by the confusion created by the publication of the NRC in Assam on 31
August 2019. About 1.9 million names, mostly Bengali Hindus, found themselves
excluded from the list. This made a section of Namasudra voters, who earlier
opposed the NDA’s amendment to the CAA, question the BJP’s real intent. To
convince them, Amit Shah’s famous remark, “Aap chronology samjhiye” (you
understand the chronology), yielded only a partial result. First, the CAA would be
passed to give citizenship to all Hindu migrants, he said, and thereafter
the NRC would be drawn to oust the “infiltrators.” Third, Mamata Banerjee, with
the help of I-PAC, launched a slew of welfare and public contact programmes. She
invited direct calls from the electorate to address their concerns. Moreover, she
largely succeeded in posing as a local woman fighting an “outsider” party ignorant
of the state’s culture and sensitivity. Finally, despite a rapid organisational
expansion of the Sangh Parivar in West Bengal, the BJP lacked a solid electoral
machinery at the booth level, which alone can ensure the last mile to electoral
victory in West Bengal.

Since 2021, the BJP has been showing signs of fatigue in West Bengal after an
inorganic and excessive growth. Even if one were to set aside the party’s vote
share in the recent panchayat election, which was heavily rigged in favour of
the TMC anyway, the BJP’s secular decline in West Bengal in the last two years is
evident in its receding vote share in successive by-elections as well as in several
municipal polls. Compared to the assembly election in May 2021, in which it got
38% votes in the Kolkata municipal area, the saffron party’s vote share dropped to
29% in the Kolkata Municipal Corporation polls in December of that year as the
Left Front emerged the runner-up in 65 of 142 wards, 17 more than the BJP. In
February 2022, the BJP’s vote share dropped drastically from its 2021 performance
in Siliguri (by 26.79%), Asansol (by 25.06%), Chandannagar (by 20.80%), and
Bidhannagar (by 24.90%) civic polls and that of the CPI(M) rose by 17.39%,
19.97%, 26.4%, and 10.65% votes, respectively (Chakraborty 2022). Another blow
to the BJP came with the Ballygunge by-election in April 2022, in which
the BJP’s vote share dropped from 20.5 to 12.8 percentage points and that of
the CPI(M) increased from 5.5 to 30.6 percentage points compared to the
preceding election less than a year ago. The latest panchayat election, with both
the BJP and the Left–Congress–Indian Secular Front alliance getting around 20%
votes each, vindicates as well that the TMC–BJP electoral polarisation is falling
apart in the state and a triangular format, however short-lived, is on the rise.13

Social Deterrence

Finally, I will make six telegraphic points as premises for an argument that despite
its massive presence as the official opposition in the legislative assembly,
the BJP stands a limited chance of emerging as a polar figure in West Bengal any
time soon.14 A quick distinction must be made here between West Bengal’s
traditional bipolar politics, which is electoral or partisan in character, and social
polarisation between Hindu and Muslim religious groups, which the BJP assumes
can offer it a long-term advantage of galvanising the majority Hindu voters.
Though with its meteoric rise the party succeeded in placing itself at a polar
position against the ruling TMC, it failed to achieve—despite many advances—a
deep and durable polarisation of the Bengalis. Some reasons for the failure lie in
the party’s inability to present itself as integral to the state’s social and cultural
ethos and its lack of effective leadership at the ground level. However, more
critical reasons are to be found in the state’s political foundation configured by
party society over three decades of Left Front rule and a decade of franchisee
politics conducted on its foundation by the TMC as a brand party.

First, in West Bengal politics—probably as a legacy of the social and cultural

churning in the long 19th century—no political party gained political respectability
unless it succeeded in enlisting the approval of Bengal’s homegrown intelligentsia.
Even Mamata Banerjee’s ascendence to power in 2011 was preceded by a dramatic
protest by the state’s left-leaning intelligentsia against the Left Front atrocities in
Nandigram. The BJP with its deep-seated anti-intellectualism has failed to get any
leverage in the state’s literary or cultural field.15 Second, West Bengal has the
largest proportion of ethnically indigenous minority Muslim population in the
country. Whenever BJP’s rise becomes imminent, this group solidifies and opts for
the strongest anti-BJP force. In 2021, the TMC received more than 70% Muslim
votes, which is more than 20% of the state’s total electorate. With such arithmetic
working against the BJP, it would require an impossible consolidation of Hindu
votes in the party’s favour to singularly form the government.

Third, the BJP cannot thrive without building a narrative of “Hindu in danger” by
orchestrating Hindu–Muslim clashes. West Bengal is no stranger to communal
violence. However, the spread of the Muslim population across the state and its
primarily rural habitat makes both Hindus and Muslims physically contiguous
communities. Such proximate cohabitation in West Bengal’s towns and
countryside makes it impossible to localise violence and works as an existential
deterrence for extensive communal riots. Fourth, although the celebration of
Hanuman Jayanti and Ram Navami has gained momentum in the state of late, they
are still considered as north Indian imports. It will take some time for these events
to colonise the cultural DNA of West Bengal. Their perceived identity with the
Hindi-speaking states works as a cultural barrier among most Bengalis. Fifth,
women voters in West Bengal have progressively shown a distinct mindset, most
glaringly exemplified in the 2021 assembly elections in which more women than
men voted for the TMC. Such gender-specific voting does not augur well for
the BJP as Narendra Modi’s “Didi, o Didi” call was widely perceived by women as
derogatory and indecent. With its self-identification as a party of a masculine and
aggressive Ram, BJP can only alienate itself from West Bengal’s increasingly
autonomous women voters.

More critically, however, franchisee politics and its transactional mode as a

progeny of party society nullify much of the BJP’s initiatives. Sediments of party
society make affiliation to a party generate a stronger sense of belonging than
one’s identification with any social or religious group. Caste or ethnic movements
frequently get split in their support for rival parties, a unified party representing the
Dalits, the Adivasis, or the Gorkhas over a long period has never materialised in
West Bengal. Political parties traditionally encapsulated intersecting as well as
overlapping community interests. In such a context, it becomes well-nigh
impossible for the BJP to proclaim itself as the sole champion of Hindu interests.
And even more crucially, the politico-economic foundation of franchisee politics
demands close collaboration and reciprocity between the Hindus and the Muslims
within designated territories to sustain legal, illegal, or paralegal business and
financial transactions in the populous informal economies at the ground level.
The BJP brand of politics—which seeks to draw a deep wedge in the materiality of
such community of interests—has reasons to be perceived as widely disruptive and
eminently putdownable. West Bengal’s franchisee politics with the traces of party
society, therefore, will continue to reproduce intra- and inter-party violence rather
than violence across ethnic or religious lines. This portends to blunt
the BJP’s ideological edge that cuts into Hindu votes and forces the party to yield
ground to the Congress and the left unless compulsions of national politics
momentarily help it to appear once more as the only instrument capable of
arresting Mamata Banerjee’s brand party.

Notes

1 Some sources put the actual toll in panchayat-related violence even at a

higher level: “According to unofficial statistics, approximately 80 people died in
the 2003 panchayat elections, 45 in 2008, and in 2013, the toll was 31. The toll
increased to 75 in 2018,” see Bhattacharya and Mitra (2023).

2 This appears paradoxical. People die for the party, yet they switch from
one party to another. Two aspects are to be noted. Switching party loyalty began
on a large scale during the last years of the Left Front and has taken an epidemic
shape at present. A partisan—even after shifting loyalty from one party to another
—continues to be a partisan. The need for alignment with a party remained strong.
Both aspects will find explanations below.

3 For elaboration of the idea of party society, see Bhattacharyya (2016).

 4 See a series of three articles in Anandabazar Patrika by Chandraprabho
Bhattacharyya from 1 to 3 January 2023.

5 However, a division bench of the Supreme Court stayed the order of the
Calcutta High Court and subsequently set aside an interim order of the latter for
conducting fresh recruitment test for these 32,000 positions.
See https://www.telegraphindia.com/my-kolkata/news/supreme-court-sets-aside-
interim-order-passed-by-calcutta-high-court-directing-fresh-recruitment-of-32000-
teachers/cid/1950590, viewed on 14 July 2023.

6 Quoted in Sinharay (2016: 148).

7 For an account of Muslim reaction to the Left Front in its twilight hours,
see S K Abdul Matin, “Community Mobilization and Development: The Making
of a New Muslim Identity in West Bengal Since 2006,” unpublished doctoral
dissertation, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, 2023; Nielsen (2011).

8 In a piercing piece of investigative journalism, Bhattacharya (2023) has

exposed how the local TMC councillor was taken for a ride by the Sangh Parivar
which doctored an Oxford University doctoral dissertation to claim that there used
to be a kumbh mela some 700 years ago in the town of Tribeni in West Bengal.
Even Prime Minister Modi praised the revival of the mela based on such a dubious
claim in his Mann ki Baat.

9 As film-maker Lalit Vachani has vividly captured in his upcoming

documentary on the BJP in West Bengal, these festivals are celebrated with a
masculine bravado and display of arms in clear contrast with the genteel and
inclusive celebration of Durga Puja, the greatest festival of West Bengal.

10 See several interesting snippets on how the voters were making their
minds during this period in Snigdhendu Bhattacharya (2020: 197, 209).

11 For a list of these incidents, see Bhattacharya (2020: 90).

12 As the CSDS/Lokniti data indicate, Muslim votes for the TMC

increased in the following manner: 51 percentage points in the 2016 assembly
elections, 70 percentage points in the 2019 Lok Sabha elections, and 75 percentage
points in the 2021 assembly elections.
 13 The results are yet not published by the state election commission due
to a Calcutta High Court order that bars their publication before the court looks
into various allegations of rigging and electoral malpractices. However, a tentative
number of seats won by different political parties and their vote shares, distorted as
they are, can be obtained in the media and in the public domain.

14 This, however, does not rule out the possibility of an appreciable

performance by the BJP in the 2024 Lok Sabha poll because the national issues
and national leadership—especially of Narendra Modi—would play a dominant
role in it. Even if the party performs respectably in these elections, it is unlikely to
sustain that thereafter.

15 See Biswas (2007). For BJP’s tirade against West Bengal’s coveted
icons one may cite Dilip Ghosh’s disparaging remarks on Amartya Sen and the
treatment the octogenarian Nobel Laureate is currently receiving from the bosses
of Visva-Bharati.

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India, New Delhi: Cambridge University Press.

Bhattacharya, Snigdhendu (2020): Mission Bengal: A Saffron Experiment, New

Delhi: HarperCollins.

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Drive Effort to ‘Revive’ Kumbh Mela in Trinamool-ruled West
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645daf6b521bc.
Bhattacharya, Ravik and Atri Mitra (2023): “13, 14, 13: Deaths In Last 3 Bengal
Rural Polls Show Violence Culture Entrenched,” Indian Express,
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16 November, viewed on 17 July 2023, https://kafila.online/2007/11/16/dhikkar-
michhil-one-lakh-march-in-kolkata-moinak-biswas/.

Chakraborty, Snehamoy (2022): “The Saga of Saffron Defeat at Civic Polls: 24%
Drop in BJP’s Vote Share,” Telegraph, 15
February, https://www.telegraphindia.com/west-bengal/the-saga-of-saffron-defeat-
at-civic-polls-24-drop-in-bjps-vote-share/cid/1851923.

Chatterjee, Partha (2019): I Am the People: Reflections on Popular Sovereignty

Today, Columbia University Press, pp 141–44.

— (2008): “Democracy and Economic Transformation in India,” , 19–25

April, Vol 43, No 16, pp 53–62

Chatterjee, Tanmoy (2019): “Mamata Banerjee’s Call to TMC Leaders to Return

‘Cut Money’ Opens Pandora’s Box,” Hindustan Times, 24 June,
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Female Populist Leadership in Contemporary India,” Politics and Gender, Vol 18,
pp 942–77.

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Bengal for a Year,” Scroll.in, 10 January, viewed on 13 June
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and-the-new-age-puja/article19692205.ece.

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Ahead of WB Rural Polls,” 31 March, viewed on 14 July
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congress-workers-shot-dead-in-west-bengal-over-candidate-selection-for-
upcoming-panchayat-polls-one-arrested-tmc-westbengal-panchayatelections-
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CBI,” Statesman, 4 December, https://www.thestatesman.com/bengal/bogtui-
massacre-main-accused-lalan-sheikh-arrested-by-cbi-1503136200.html.

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That Explains the Rise of BJP,” News 18, 17
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Shakhas,” Sunday Guardian, 10 August, https://sundayguardianlive.com/news/rss-
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news/rss-grows-rapidly-bengal-doubles-number-shakhas.

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Congress in West Bengal,” , Vol 53, No 28, pp 92–99.

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Politics in an Indian State,” Forum for Development Studies, Vol 38, No 3, pp
345–70.
 — (2016): “Mamata Banerjee: Redefining Female Leadership,” India’s
Democracy: Diversity, Co-operation, Resistance, A E Ruud and G Heierstad (eds),
Universitetsforlaget, Oslo, Chapter 5.

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March, viewed on 14 July
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— (2023): “Chop Off My Head ... But Can’t Give More Dearness
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Chandra, G Heierstad and K B Nielsen (eds), New Delhi: Routledge, p 148.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/36/special-articles/conflict-and-
collaboration.html

Economic Dependency among the Elderly in

India
Need for a Comprehensive Geriatric Financing Policy
Population ageing is an inevitable global phenomenon associated with the
improving healthcare system and economic well-being of the nations. In India,
declining fertility, increasing longevity, and better control of chronic diseases have
risen dramatically in adults aged 60 and above, in absolute and relative terms.
This demographic shift presents a wide range of complex, social, and economic
challenges, today and in the future. India observed a higher level of financial
dependency among the elderly population along with the high gender and
statewise disparities. Policy changes and programmes must pay attention to the
unique needs and situations of the elderly, particularly the poor.
The author acknowledges the reviewer for the valuable suggestions and Bala for the support in
graphical presentations.
Population ageing is a global phenomenon and a growing challenge for both
developed and developing countries. The World Population Prospects (2019)
report in 2020 states that 54 countries are classified as aged societies. Most of them
are in the developed countries (72%), while another 42 predominantly emerging
countries (79%) are expected to be ageing. As a result, the number of countries
immediately concerned by population ageing will increase significantly from 96 in
2020 to 147 in 2050, that is, more than three quarters of all countries and around
87% of the global population.

Globally, there were 703 million older persons aged 65 or above in 2019. Eastern
and South-eastern Asia was home to the largest number of the world’s older
population (260 million), followed by Europe and Northern America (over 200
million). The global number of older persons is projected to more than double in
the next three decades, reaching over 1.5 billion persons in 2050. The number of
persons aged 80 years or above is projected to triple, from 143 million in 2019 to
426 million in 2050.

The Context

India, the second most populous country, has undergone unprecedented demogra-
phic changes. Increasing longevity, declining fertility, early detection and
appropriate management of chronic non-communicable diseases have resulted in a
dramatic increase in the population of adults aged 60 and above, in both absolute
and relative terms. This change presents a wide range of complex social, economic,
and health challenges, today and in the future. India’s estimated population of 1.40
billion in 2022 comprises 17% of the world’s total population and the United
Nations Population Division estimates that India’s population will, in fact,
overtake China’s by 2028. As the country’s population grows, the expanding share
of older adults is particularly notable. According to the National Sample Survey
Office (NSSO) report, about 5.6% of the total population of India was in the age
group of 60 years and above in 1961, and in 2021, the proportion has increased to
10.1%. The Report of the Technical Group on Population Projections for India and
States 2011–36 states that there were nearly 138 million elderly persons in India in
2021 (67 million males and 71 million females), and the population is expected to
further increase by around 56 million in 2031.

Ageing is a natural phenomenon of human life, but it brings with it several social,
economic, and health-related issues. Increasing demand for healthcare, economic
dependency, problems with living arrangements, social and mental well-being of
the elderly, violence against senior citizens, etc, are issues of serious concern
pertaining to old age. The demographic shift also shows a reduction in labour force
participation and savings, increases health expenditures and demands social
protection schemes for the elderly. The longevity revolution also raised the
prevalence of chronic non-communicable diseases like cardiac problems, cancer,
diabetes, etc, and reduced the quality of life among the elderly. Appropriate
economic policies, social protection schemes, health insurance coverage, etc, are
needed to protect the elderly from high economic dependency and financial
catastrophe.

For the present study, secondary data sources from the National Sample
Survey (NSS) 75th round (2017–18) were used. The survey was spread across the
country, and for the central sample, data was collected from 1,18,152 households
(81,004 in rural areas and 37,148 in urban areas) and 5,76,569 persons (4,02,589 in
rural areas and 1,73,980 in urban areas). In addition, other reports like the Elderly
in India Report 2021 and the NSS data for November 2019 were also used.

Observations

Socio-demographic characteristics of the Indian elderly population are presented in

Table 1 (p 24). The average age of the elderly population in India was 67.5 years.
Of this, 66.1% are in the age group of 60–69 years, 25.9% in 70–79, and 8% are
aged 80 years and above. Around 67.1% of India’s elderly live in rural areas. The
proportion of women is 50.9% and men constitute 49.1% of the elderly population.
Further, 54.1% of them are illiterate, and 48.1% are self-employed. In terms of
partners and family, 34.4% were widowed, and the majority, 95.7%, has at least
one surviving child.
As per the Report of the Technical Group on Population Projections for India and
States 2011–36, an increase of nearly 34 million elderly persons was seen in 2021
and is further expected to increase by around 56 million in 2031. Since 1961, India
has seen an increase in the graph of the old age population to the general
population. In the last two decades (2001–11 and 2011–21), the elderly population
grew by 35.8% and projected to be 40.5% in 2031. In 1981–91 onwards, general
population growth showed a declining trend and projected to be about 8.4% in the
2021–31 period.

The gap between the general and elderly population has increased significantly
over time. In 1951–61, the difference between the general and elderly population
growth was 2.3%, which rose to 23.4% in 2011–21 and is projected to be 32.1%
for 2021–31 (Table 2).

In 1961, 5.6% of the population was in the age category of 60 years and above,
10.1% in 2021 and is further projected to increase to 13.1% in 2031. We can
observe a similar trend in rural as well as in the urban areas. In rural areas, the
proportion of the elderly was 5.8% in 1961 and increased to 8.8% in 2011.
Whereas in urban areas, it has increased from 4.7% to 8.1% during the 1961–2011
period. It can also be observed that the percentage of the elderly had been higher in
rural areas than in the urban all along, and the proportion of elderly female
population is also high.
Wide interstate variations are observed on this issue. Decreasing fertility and
increasing life expectancy lead to continued ageing of population and states across
India are at different levels of fertility transition. Kerala has the maximum
proportion of elderly people (16.5%), followed by Tamil Nadu (13.6%). Himachal
Pradesh (13.1%), Punjab (12.6%), and Andhra Pradesh (12.4%) also show a high
proportion of elderly population in 2021. But on the contrary, elderly population is
comparatively less in Bihar (7.7%), Uttar Pradesh (8.1%) and Assam (8.2%),
respectively. National-level projected population shows the aged proportion in
Kerala to reach 20.8% by 2036, which means nearly one in four will be counted as
the elderly in another 15 years.

As the proportion of the elderly rises, the old-age dependency ratio is also rising.
That ratio has increased from 14.2% in 2011 to 15.7% in 2021 as per projections. It
is expected to rise to 20.1% by 2031. The old-age dependency ratio represents the
number of persons aged above 60 per 100 persons for those aged 15–59 years. The
ratio is used as a proxy for the economic dependency of the older population.

The NSS 75th round (2017–18) shows about 70% of the aged persons are
economically dependent on others for their survival. The economic dependency
ratio for both genders has also shown an increasing trend over time. It was increa-
sed from 10.9% in 1961 to 14.8% in 2021 in males, and in females, it rose from
10.9% to 16.7%, during the 1961–2021 period. In these decades, urban and rural
differences were also observed. Economic dependency was reported high in rural
areas, and it grew from 11.4% to 15.7% compared to 8.7% to 13.7% in urban areas
in the period between 1961 and 2021. This may be due to the relatively higher
proportion of the population working in rural agricultural and informal sectors.

The economic dependency among the elderly women is also higher. Only 10% of
the rural and 11% of the urban females were reported as economically independent
compared to 48% of the rural and 75% of the urban male population, respectively.
Statewise disparities in economic dependency show that the dependency ratio
varied over time. It was the highest in Kerala (19.6%) and Delhi (10.4%) in 2011.
However, for 2021, it varied from 12.7% in Assam to 26.1% in Kerala. Gender-
wise differences in economic dependency with respect to females and males were
high in states like Kerela (27.8% and 24.3%), followed by Tamil Nadu (21.3% and
19.3%), Himachal Pradesh (21.2% and 18.1%) and Punjab (20.1% and 17.7%) for
2021. But on the contrary, Odisha reported high economic dependency (18.4)
among males. Surprisingly, in West Bengal, the economic dependency ratio shows
similar trends among both genders (Table 3).
Economic dependency among the aged have been divided into three categories:
fully independent, partially dependent and fully dependent. Full economic
dependency reported among rural male is the highest in Assam (42%) and the
lowest in Nagaland (4%). Whereas, Delhi reported the highest full economic
dependency (100%) among rural females and the lowest in Manipur (24%). The
highest percentage of economic independency of 82% was reported for the urban
male population in Himachal Pradesh compared to the lowest, of 28%, for the rural
male population in Arunachal Pradesh and Assam. Among females, the highest and
the lowest economics independency was reported, in the same state, that is
Meghalaya.

Discussion

Even though increasing life expectancy and ageing of the population are good
indicators of the standard of living, almost all countries are facing two major
phenomena: ageing of the age, resulting in a large increase of population with life
expectancy of 80 years and above, and the feminisation of ageing, as women live
longer than men. In India, the family still remains the mainstay for the elderly, and
as they get older, their dependency on the families grows further.

Economic independence of older population is the key indicator of their wellbeing.

In India, the problems of old age economic dependency have not been given much
consideration in the past. Research as well as public discourse on this area is
limited. Recently, there has been a growing awareness and concern about elderly
issues in India, particularly economic dependence. However, these efforts still fall
short of meeting the needs of the elderly population due to several factors,
including the changing nature of the family unit and the lack of comprehensive
social security programmes. However, with the rapid changes in the socio-
economic scenario, labour-related migration, and the emerging prevalence of
nuclear family set-ups in India, older people are exposed to physical, social, and
financial insecurity. Therefore, it is expected that the concern towards the senior
citizens should be consistently reflected in our policy, action and popular
discourse. This has to be multipronged with strengthening of research in
gerontology, financial support, medical, psychological and social support systems.

There is no single best policy or silver bullet to respond to population ageing.

However, ensuring income security as well as mitigating the financial costs that
arise from a high old-age dependency ratio should be prioritised by the
policymakers and implementers. A country’s ability to address population ageing
mainly depends on the fiscal space available to implement their tax and benefit
programmes. India spends only about 1% of its GDP on pensions. The country’s
key policy interventions are the Indira Gandhi National Old Age Pension Scheme,
Indira Gandhi National Widow Pension Scheme, and Atal Pension Yojana.
Financial support for the elderly varies from state to state. The state pensions under
various schemes are very low, and about 17 states are giving less than `1,000 per
month as old age pension, with a minimum contribution from the state budgets.
Because of the ongoing demographic shifts, issues concerning the old age
population are likely to continue for the next several decades. There is a need for
more generous social protection schemes for the elderly from the union
government and state governments. The costs that are specific to the old age such
as medical, psychological and difficulties in financial management and transactions
need to be addressed by the state welfare interventions.

The majority of elderly population of India faces socio-economic problems as well

as suffers from various health problems, due to poor nutrition and inadequate
healthcare facilities. So, free healthcare services should be provided which includes
home healthcare, free provision of medicines, nutritional supplements, healthcare
awareness programmes, counselling and other specific needs. This can be done
through collaborative efforts of the government and civil society. There is also a
need to build more affordable old age homes, palliative care centres or shelters
where they can live independently, especially so where there is no care or
assistance available.

Most Indian elderly lack adequate social security or old-age pension. The country
needs a robust social security system that addresses decisive ageing challenges
such as decent living arrangements, economic independence, and social support to
ensure active ageing. Older people also need financial literacy and awareness about
all available financial avenues, schemes and financial management. Many of the
elderly who can contribute to paid/unpaid work can be considered for alternate
employment opportunities, leading to financial security and psychosocial benefits.
Updated data regarding labour force participation among the elderly are also
missing. Self-help groups among the elderly can be encouraged and promoted to
empower more senior people. India needs to facilitate interstate convergence in
old-age pensions under social security schemes for the elderly population, and an
urgent need to revisit existing multisectoral policy initiatives aimed towards
elderly welfare.
It is extremely important to create awareness about the changing needs and rights
of the elderly, and to educate and regularly sensitise the society about these issues.
At the same time, elderly care training should be promoted not only as a
professional practice but also among the younger caregiving population. A
comprehensive geriatric financing policy is required in order to protect people
from old-age economic dependency as well as support a comprehensive system
and culture of care.

References

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Implementation, National Statistical Office, Social Statistical
Division, www.mospi.gov.in.

Giridhar, G, Lekha Subaiya and Supriya Verma (2011): “Older Women in India:
Economic, Social and Health Concerns,” UNFA, Building Knowledge Base on
Ageing in India: Increased Awareness, Access and Quality of Elderly
Services, Thematic Paper No 2, UNFPA.

Goli, S, A B Reddy, K S James and V Srinivasan (2019): “Economic

Independence and Social Security among India’s Elderly,” , 28 September, Vol 54,
No 39, pp 32–41.

Government of India (2019): “NSS 75th Round-Key Indicators of Social

Consumption in India: Health,” New Delhi, http://www.mospi.gov.in/unit-level-
datareport-nss-75th-round-july-2017-june-2018-schedule-250social-
consumptionhealth, viewed on 25 February 2022.

— (2019): “Report on NSS 76th Round, Persons with Disabilities in India, 2018,”
New
Delhi, http://www.mospi.gov.in/sites/default/files/ NSS7626d/Report_583_Final.p
df.

Ranjan, Alok and V R Muraleedharan (2020): “Equity and Elderly Health in India:
Reflections from 75th Round National Sample Survey, 2017–18, Amidst the
COVID-19 Pandemic,” Globalization and Health, 16:93,
https://doi.org/10.1186/s12992-020-00619-7.
UNDESA (2019a): “World Population Prospects 2019: Highlight,” United
Nations, Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Population Division,
ST/ESA/SER.A/423, New York,
https://population.un.org/wpp/Publications/Files/WPP2019_Highlights.pdf.es.

— (2019b): “World Population Prospects 2019,” Online Edition, Rev 1,”

https://population. un.org/wpp/.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/14/commentary/economic-dependency-among-elderly-india.html

A Failed Economy Saved by Geography

Pakistan and Rentier Geopolitics
Despite experiencing multiple political and economic crises in recent
times, Pakistan’s economy has so far avoided a collapse similar to Sri Lanka’s. It
is argued that the key to understanding its economic survival has been the effective
utilisation of its unique geography, thereby exhibiting features of a rentier state.
Its strategic location has enabled Pakistan to secure military and economic
support from three major countries, namely the United States, China, and Saudi
Arabia. While this enabled a razor’s edge type unstable economic survival, it also
prevented the country from undertaking significant political and economic
reforms.
Views are personal.
Pakistan with its chequered history has evoked extreme branding. At different
points of time, it has been described as an elitist state, a rogue state, a rentier state,
and sometimes even a failed state. Pakistan’s politics and economy have been in a
state of almost constant crisis since the beginning of the new millennium.

Political developments in Pakistan since 2000 illustrate the extent of this

crisis.1 Pakistan’s entry into the new millennium was marked by Nawaz Sharif
being sentenced to life imprisonment and later, General Musharraf’s September
2001 decision to back the United States in its war against terror. Subsequent
developments were marked by bloodshed and instability. Benazir Bhutto was
assassinated in December 2007 after her return to Pakistan from eight years in
exile. In November 2008, while the world was grappling with the fallout of the
global financial crisis, terrorists trained in Pakistan launched an attack on Mumbai,
an incident that demonstrated to the world the extent of Pakistan’s hand in state-
sponsored terrorism. In May 2011, Osama bin Laden was killed by United States
Special Forces in Abbottabad. The year 2017 witnessed the resignation of Prime
Minister Nawaz Sharif, and later, his disqualification by the Pakistani Supreme
Court from holding any public office. Imran Khan became the Prime Minister in
2018, but could not complete his term. In April 2022, he became the first Prime
Minister to be removed from office through a no-confidence motion. As Pakistan
prepares for elections in 2023, it faces “a fragile economy along with deepening
domestic polarisation.”2

How did Pakistan’s economy survive in the midst of political instability? We argue
that the key to Pakistan’s economic survival is the effective utilisation of its unique
geography. Specifically, Pakistan has used three powerful states, namely the US,
China, and Saudi Arabia to its advantage, almost with marionette-like precision.

Pakistan’s Economic Crisis

To say that economic crisis has been part of Pakistan’s economic history is stating
the obvious. Since 1958 till 2019, Pakistan has approached the International
Monetary Fund (IMF) 21 times for assistance. Since 2000, Pakistan has
taken IMF loans five times and is now negotiating for the last tranche of the fifth
one (Table 1). Pakistan currently has an outstanding loan of SDR 4.8 billion
(nearly $6.4 billion) to the IMF. In line with the sympathetic view of the US,
the IMF has always taken a lenient view of Pakistan’s performance under
several IMF arrangements. Nevertheless, in its 2021 Article IV Consultation
Report for Pakistan and the Sixth Review of its Extended Fund Facility (released in
February 2022), the IMF noted,

Fund advice has aimed at reducing fiscal deficits and restoring public debt
sustainability, reforming the energy sector, allowing more exchange rate flexibility,
enhancing SOE governance, and generating higher and sustainable growth … the
implementation of past Article IV recommendations was generally weak.
It added further, “Pakistan has a long history of stop-and-go economic policies and
weak implementation of structural reforms” (IMF 2022).

More recently, Pakistan has been negotiating with the IMF to clear its ninth
review; if the IMF Board approves it, the IMF will issue about $1 billion of the
2019 bailout. The negotiation has run into rough weather, with the IMF’s resident
representative in Pakistan reportedly saying that Pakistan will be required to assure
that its balance of payments deficit is fully financed for the fiscal year ending in
June to unlock the next tranche of IMF funding.3

Interestingly, in terms of basic macro variables, Pakistan’s economy does not

appear that bad at first glance. With a per capita income of around $1,600 and
a GDP of $376 billion, Pakistan is classified as a “lower middle income” country.
Its global share is less than 1%. Table 2 reports the time series trends in select
macroeconomic indicators of Pakistan. A number of interesting regularities come
out. First, in terms of growth rate, Pakistan’s performance appears to be moderate,
with growth hovering around the 4% mark. Second, even such
moderate GDP growth is seemingly inconsistent with quite low saving rates and
investment rates; while savings rates were typically in the range of 12% to 15%, -
investment rates did not go up beyond 17.3% since 2000. Third, it has high double-
digit inflation during 2008 through 2012 and again in recent times. Fourth,
notwithstanding the crises like situation in Pakistan, its debt-deficit numbers do not
appear to be alarming, thanks to repeated assistance from the IMF. Fifth, barring a
few years (namely 2008, 2019, 2020, and 2022), even its current account deficit
does not appear to be alarming.

Despite these not-too-alarming macro numbers, why does Pakistan’s

economy continue to be perennially in a crisis mode in terms of external payments
vulnerability? One important hypothesis is that Pakistan’s episodes of high
economic growth were usually marked by disproportionally higher import growth.
Rosbach and Aleksanyan (2019) pointed out several factors in this regard.

First, energy imports largely contributed to a surge in overall imports. … Second,

since Pakistan did not produce machinery that was crucial for manufacturing and
infrastructure development, it continued its reliance on imports. Third, past
investments did not improve the productive capabilities of the country to enable it
to substitute some of imports and shift its pattern of specialisation towards more
sophisticated products. Pakistan’s export performance has been weak for decades.
… Thus, Pakistan’s exports have not kept pace with global income growth.

In terms of what the future holds, Rosbach and Aleksanyan (2019) commented,
“Stagnating value of exports since 2012 and slowing remittance growth since 2014
are likely further shifting the BOP equilibrium growth rate downwards.”
According to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) Observatory of
Economic Complexity, Pakistan ranks 93 out of 127 countries, implying very high
import dependence and poor export performance.4

A look at the exchange rate of the Pakistan rupee (PKR) and Pakistan’s foreign
exchange reserves, including gold (forex) shows interesting patterns. Since 2000,
the PKR–USD exchange rate has experienced steep depreciation from 54 to 163
(Figure 1A). The forex reserves of Pakistan have shown a roller coaster ride with a
cycle of three years since 2004; it seems that after every crisis year, the IMF tended
to intervene and the country’s forex reserves came back to the pre-crisis level
(Figure 1B). Such wild fluctuations in reserves and poor export performance have
cost the Pakistani economy dearly.
But how could Pakistan survive so many crises? Why has it been rescued
repeatedly by the IMF? It is in this context that we turn to our characterisation of
Pakistan as a rentier state.

Pakistan and Rentier Geopolitics

The term “rentier state” is used to refer to countries that draw a substantial portion
of government revenue from their resource attributes.5 Pakistan is a classic rentier
state. However, unlike the states of Middle East and North Africa (MENA), which
have used natural resources, particularly oil, as mainstays of rent-collection,
Pakistan has used its strategic location and military capabilities for economic
advantage. Its alliance with the US which began in the 1950s was based on its
critical role in countering the Soviet Union’s influence in the Central and South
Asian region. The alliance with China grew out of their mutual desire to contain
India, a country with which they had religious and ideological differences as well
as border disputes. Pakistan’s close relationship with the Persian Gulf states,
particularly Saudi Arabia was based not only on religious affinities, but also on
Pakistan’s close military ties with the region. The monarchies of Persian Gulf saw
Pakistan as a dependable ally against a theocratic Iran and a hedge against
possible US disengagement from the region. In more recent years, Iran’s desire to
acquire nuclear weapons only increased the importance of a nuclear-armed
Pakistan for the Gulf monarchies.

For Pakistan, the three alliances were useful not only for increasing its defence
capabilities but also for economic sustenance. It is these alliances which will
probably ensure that the current crisis in Pakistan will not cause its economy to
collapse like Sri Lanka’s.

Relations with the US

Though the US has traditionally been friendly to Pakistan for decades, relations
steadily deteriorated during the “War on Terror” which began post-9/11. The
killing of Osama bin Laden in the Pakistani city of Abbottabad in 2011 by
the US forces raised questions about Pakistan’s commitment to the fight against
terrorism. This came at a time when relations were already strained because of
the US pressure on Pakistan to release a Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)
operative, Raymond Davies, who had killed two men in Lahore.

The election of President Trump in 2016 set the stage for a further deterioration in
the relationship. President Trump was critical of US aid to Pakistan when Pakistan
was seen as providing a safe haven for terrorists. He suspended payments to
Pakistan under the Coalition Support Fund (CSF), restricted the movement of
Pakistani diplomats in the US, and terminated military training programmes of the
Pakistani military (Zaidi and Ahmad 2022: 735–36).

It is important to note, however, that despite the deteriorating bilateral relationship

the US did facilitate economic help to Pakistan from multilateral institutions (the
prominent being the IMF in 2019) when it faced severe economic difficulties.

Sino–Pakistan Relations

Pakistan’s major economic partner in recent years has been China. Closer Indo–
US ties under President Trump provided an impetus to the Sino–Pakistan
relationship. For China, Pakistan provides a link to the Persian Gulf region which
is an important source of oil for China. It is also seen as critical for countering
India, a country which both see as a strategic rival. For Pakistan, Chinese military
aid is critical in its disputes with India over Kashmir. China also provides
economic support by way of lending for major infrastructure projects which
Pakistan desperately needs.

The economic relationship between Pakistan and China deepened substantially in

the aftermath of Chinese President Xi Jinping’s visit to Pakistan in April 2015.
Thirty agreements were signed during the visit as part of a China–Pakistan
Economic Corridor (CPEC) project which involved substantial Chinese investment
in rail, road and power projects in Pakistan (Zaidi and Ahmad 2022). This was part
of China’s “One Belt, One Road” initiative which aimed to develop new road and
rail links for Chinese exports to Europe and the MENA region. The rail and road
links developed as part of the CPEC were to connect China by land and rail to
Pakistani ports, providing an alternate route for Chinese exports, away from
China’s traditional sea-lanes of communications (SLOCs), which passed through
the South China Sea and Indian Ocean. These SLOCs were considered vulnerable
because they ran close to India and Vietnam, and also to the US military bases in
the region—countries which China considered hostile. While the promised
investments were substantial, implementing them proved a lot harder. Many
projects were cancelled due to contractual difficulties, in particular, high rates of
interest charged on loans.

However, despite the high debt burden, brought on by Chinese lending

for CPEC projects, it is unlikely that China will let Pakistan slide into an economic
crisis similar to Sri Lanka’s. Pakistan is important for China, not only for its role in
containing India, but also because of its links to the Middle East and Central Asia,
and as one of the few countries around the world with close ties to both China and
the US (Shaikh and Chen 2021). Pakistan could possibly count on Chinese
emergency economic assistance to tide over periods of acute economic crises.

Pakistan and the Gulf

Strong ties between Pakistan and the Gulf states date back to the 1960s when
Pakistan sent military training missions to friendly Muslim countries in
the MENA region. Pakistan air force pilots took part in combat with Arab forces
during the 1967 Arab–Israeli conflict (Samaan 2014: 133).

Pakistan, as the only Islamic country with nuclear weapons, has also been able to
leverage its nuclear status to obtain economic assistance. Saudi Arabia provided
Pakistan with substantial economic aid, including heavily subsidised oil, when
sanctions were imposed by the Western countries after Pakistan’s nuclear weapons
tests in 1998. There have also been persistent reports of secret agreements between
Pakistan and Saudi Arabia which extend Pakistan’s nuclear deterrent to Saudi
Arabia (Zweiri and James 2021: 506). Other Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC)
countries have also provided economic support to Pakistan at critical times.
Pakistan’s strategic location and defence capabilities make it a valuable partner for
the Gulf states as they seek to bolster their own defences. This provides Pakistan
with an economic cushion that few other countries have.

In Conclusion

Pakistan, despite its obvious links to domestic and global terror networks, and
repeated economic crises, has managed to keep afloat by leveraging its unique
geographical location. In this process, it has used, and also allowed itself to be
used, by three central players, namely the US, China and Saudi Arabia.
Consequently, apart from receiving bilateral assistance, it has always been rescued
by global economic institutions like the IMF. The crucial question is: How long
can Pakistan continue to receive such rescue packages without significant political
and economic reforms? It is challenging to make speculative predictions. After all,
international economic diplomacy, by its very nature, is quite amoral.

Notes

1 See Pippa Virdee (2021) for a synoptic view on Pakistan’s political development.

2 https://www.usip.org/publications/2023/01/current-situation-pakistan.

3 https://www.reuters.com/markets/asia/pakistan-has-give-assurances-financing-
bop-deficit-imf-2023-03-06/.

4 In terms of the latest data, the top imports of Pakistan are: refined
petroleum, petroleum gas, palm oil, crude petroleum, and raw cotton, importing
mostly from China, United Arab Emirates, United States, Indonesia, and Saudi
Arabia.

5 Such states earn substantial foreign exchange from export of natural resources. In
such states governments are also often unaccountable since high revenue from
these resources enable them to seek political legitimacy by keeping taxes low and
providing generous subsidies. Unaccountable government coupled with high
unemployment, however, creates conditions of domestic political instability
(Beblawi and
Luciani 1987; Mahdavy 1970; Kuru 2014).

References

Beblawi, H and G Luciani (1987): The Rentier State, New York: Croom Helm.

IMF (2002): Pakistan: 2021 Article IV Consultation, Sixth Review under the
Extended Arrangement under the Extended Fund Facility, and Requests for
Waivers of Applicability and Nonobservance of Performance Criteria and
Rephasing of Access—Press Release; Staff Report; and Statement by the
Executive Director for Pakistan, file:///E:/Research/Biju/Pakistan/Article%20IV
%20report.pdf.

Kuru, A T (2014): “Authoritarianism and Democracy in Muslim Countries: Rentier

States and Regional Diffusion,” Political Science Quarterly, 129, pp 399–427.

Mahdavy, H (1970): “Patterns and Problems of Economic Development in Rentier

States: The Case of Iran,” M A Cook (ed), Studies in the Economic History of the
Middle-East, Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp 428–68.

Rosbach, Kristian and Lilia Aleksanyan (2019): “Why Pakistan’s Economic

Growth Continues to be Balance-of-Payments Constrained,” ADB Central and
West Asia Working Paper Series, No 8.

Samaan, J L (2014): “The Ties that Do Not Bind: The Limits of the South Asian–
Gulf Rapprochement,” Contemporary Review of the Middle East, Vol 1, No 2, pp
127–40.

Shaikh, R and C K Chen (2021): “China’s Debt Trap in Pakistan? A Case Study of
the CPEC Project,” South Asia Research, Vol 41, No 3, pp 399–414.

Virdee, Pippa (2021): Pakistan: A Very Short Introduction, Oxford: Oxford

University Press.

Zaidi, S M S and A Ahmad (2022): “From Friend to Foe: Post-9/11 Pakistan–US

Relations: A Realist Perspective,” Asian Journal of Comparative Politics, Vol 7,
No 4, pp 727–43.

Zweiri, M and T B James (2021): “Saudi Arabia–Pakistan Relations: An Age of

Uncertainty or Decline?” Contemporary Review of the Middle East, Vol 8, No 4,
pp 496–511.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/15/commentary/failed-economy-saved-geography.html

Inner Contradictions of a Hindu Nationalist

Competing Nationalisms: The Sacred and Political Life of Jagat Narain Lal by
Rajshree Chandra, New Delhi: Penguin, 2021; pp xxv + 211, `599.
The authors are thankful to Supriy Ranjan for reading and commenting on the draft of the review.
The story of India’s anti-colonial nationalism cannot be told without recourse to
the simultaneous rise of religious majoritarianism. As these two phenomena
inhabited the same temporal world, revisiting the foundational moments of India’s
republic is of prime importance to understand our present predicament—the
ascendancy of Hindutva forces. Hence the period between 1920 and 1940 is
extremely important to understand this phenomenon. It is in this context that the
book, Competing Nationalisms: The Scared and Political Life of Jagat Narain
Lal, by political theorist Rajshree Chandra needs to be looked at. Through a richly
documented political biography of her paternal grandfather—Jagat Narain Lal—
Chandra offers critical insights into the politics of these crucial decades.

Lal, the book’s main protagonist, was a freedom fighter, an active member of both
the Congress and the Hindu Mahasabha, a member of the Constituent Assembly,
and a member of the Linguistic Provinces Commission (also known as Dhar
Commission formed in 1948). The book is about a deeply conflictual journey, both
at the personal and political level, of an erstwhile member of Hindu Mahasabha,
who ended up prescribing a civic version of nationalism. To conceptualise such a
journey, the author has identified four competing strands of nationalism that Lal
was a part of: ascetic nationalism, Hindu nationalism, anti-colonial nationalism,
and civic nationalism. This is mapped across six chapters in the book.

Salvaging Lal from Virulent Hindutva

One of the biggest strengths of this work lies in the manner in which the author
subjects every act of Lal to intense scrutiny. Chandra has shown that even familial
ties cannot, and should not, hinder the academic exercise of offering critical and
unsparing analysis. In addition, instead of merely chronicling the major events of
the protagonist, the author has put them within a conceptual grid to make it
intelligible to the readers. Nationalism, secularism, and religion are the main
components of that grid.

Not only does the book try to resurrect one of the marginalised figures of Indian
history but also provides conceptual resources to think about the crisis of civility
and secularism that has engulfed the country in the present times. Moving beyond
the idea that sees civic nationalism as a perfect antidote to religious
majoritarianism, she claims that civic nationalism has an inherent tendency to slip
into ethnonationalism. This is because the two terms, civic and nationalism, pull
the concept into two mutually contradictory directions. While the civic component
hails difference and diversity, the nationalist component always aspires for
similitude that perceives “too much difference as antithetical to the national
interest” (p 169), implying that the path India chose always kept the door open for
the “majoritarian propensity that’s latent in the best of times, but actively manifest
in the worst” (p 134). The contradictions that were kept under the carpet have now
reappeared in virulent forms (p 178).

Having outlined the book and its novelties, let us now turn our attention towards
the major arguments of the book.

The author’s attempt to salvage Lal’s politics of Hindu nationalism from the
malignant Savarkarite version of Hindutva is the running theme of the book. She
claims that despite being an active member of the Hindu Mahasabha, his stance
against the cow slaughter and conversion of Hindus, his opposition to the word
secular in the Indian Constitution, his staunch objection to the right of religious
propagation during the Constituent Assembly Debates (pp 143–48), Lal cannot be
seen a votary of “vengeful Hindutva” (p 80). This claim would appear counter-
intuitive to anybody precisely because it is these issues that form the core of
Hindutva politics in present times. Rather, he was a supporter of “emphatic Hindu
nationalism” (p 80).

Chandra thinks that he was not a proponent of Hindutva for five reasons. First, the
membership of Hindu Mahasabha was not an uncommon feature during that
period. Many of the stalwarts of the Congress party, the Hindu right within the
Congress, such as Rajendra Prasad, Lala Lajpat Rai, and Madan Mohan Malaviya,
among others, were also members of the Mahasabha (p 64). Second, despite being
a member of the Mahasabha, he never advocated shuddhi (purification and
reconversion). His quest for sangathan (organisation) of Hindus was guided by an
impetus to unite them and reform Hinduism. It was unmarked by any desire to
purify and reconvert the converted Hindus (pp 74–76). Third, to appreciate Lal’s
politics, a distinction needs to be maintained between political Hinduism and
spiritual Hinduism. His politics belonged to the latter precisely because of the fact
that he never envisaged a political community that was fused with religious
identity. That is why he never spoke of Hindu Rashtra (p 176). Fourth, the moment
he realised that his quest for ethical goals was not possible within the Hindu Mah-
asabha, he left the Mahasabha (roughly around the mid-1930s) and chose to be
firmly in the anti-colonial nationalist camp.

Finally, through espousing civic nationalism over ethnonationalism, and discarding

religion as the relevant factor for determining citizenship, Lal not only shed the
burden of Hindu Mahasabha but also made “an explicit departure from it” (pp 132–
33). What follows is a scrutiny of some of these reasons. It is through scrutinising
these claims that we intend to highlight the internal contradictions and limitations
of the book.

Limitations of the Book

For Chandra, the very act of quitting the Hindu Mahasabha itself signifies that Lal
discarded both its politics and ideology. She interprets his departure to bring home
the point that by this time, he had realised the “folly and futility” of his initial idea
of political representation of the collective Hindu identity (p 108). She
claims, “Once it becomes clear to him that Hindutva is not about Hinduism, or
about seva, he parts ways with the Hindu Mahasabha” (p 176). And it is this
assumption of Lal’s ideological transformation that leaves the reader wondering,
for one hardly finds adequate textual evidence to validate this claim. Why did he
leave the Hindu Mahasabha? Was it a disagreement at the level of strategy? Or a
result of an ideological conflict?

The evidence provided in the book indicates that the Mahasabha’s pro-government
and anti-congress policies forced Lal to leave the organisation, as he could not
have compromised with the anti-colonial nationalism. After all, along with being a
devout Hindu, he was a staunch nationalist as well. Curiously, for a careful reader,
this disenchantment with the Hindu Mahasabha would largely appear as a tactical
disagreement and less a matter of ideological conflict. To illustrate, even the letter
on which the author relies heavily itself indicates the tactical conflict between Lal
and the Mahasabha. In the letter to B S Moonje, he writes: “I wish to say
something about the Mahasabha also. When one originally took to it and worked,
we hardly knew that it would take the shape of the Muslim League and come into
conflict with the Congress on certain points from time to time” (p 102; emphasis in
original). He reiterates that Bhai Parmanand’s (President-elect at the Hindu
Mahasabha Ajmer session, 1933) open advocacy of pro-government and anti-
congress policy has widened the rift between them to the extent that he could “no
longer associate with him” (p 103; emphasis added).

It appears that the exit was largely over a tactical issue. He quit the Mahasabha as
he realised that, like Muslim League, the Hindu Mahasabha was also working
against the national movement by taking an anti-Congress and pro-government
stance (pp 102–06). Surprisingly, what appears to be largely a tactical
disagreement, has been interpreted as an ideological disagreement by the author.
Interestingly, in one instance, Chandra contradicts herself when she writes: “His
biggest disenchantment was perhaps with the failure of political Hinduism
to imagine and construct a politics that was distinctly and consistently anti--
colonial” (p 108). One is not discarding here the possibility that Lal might have
substantive differences with the Mahasabha. However, the point is that any such
possibility requires valid evidence to get verified. But the book falls short of
marshalling the required evidences.

One of the major limitations of the book lies in the manner in which Lal’s notion
of secularism and his position on minority rights have been left largely unexplored.
The omission of such an important aspect jeopardises the author’s own quest to
differentiate his politics from the proponents of Hindutva. Because even the Hindu
right does not dismiss secularism in toto; rather, they are “fairly comfortable with
the idea of formal equality as coded in the concept
of Sarva dharma sambhava” (Chandhoke 2010: 345). But what they are
uncomfortable “with is the idea of substantive equality, which dictates that the
vulnerable need special protection” (Chandhoke 2010: 345). If the Hindu right is
not against secularism, but only a substantive version of it, then how are we going
to know whether Lal differed from such a notion of secularism without having a
detailed discussion on the issue itself?

The very short discussion (pp 143–48) that we have on Lal’s position on
secularism indicates that he, too, was in favour of a version of secularism in which
the state was supposed to not interfere in any religion (p 143). One wonders, if he
would have been alive today, would he not have accused the Indian state of being
pseudo-secular and appeasing the minorities? If not, then why did he consider the
right to religious propagation as pressing “for too much” and nothing short
of “taking undue advantage of the generosity of the majority?” (p 147). Did he
oppose conversion because it could have dented the demographic advantage of the
Hindus? Did he ever shed off the majoritarian impulse that lies at the heart of
Hindu nationalism? As is evident, these questions warrant detailed discussion on
secularism that one finds largely absent in the book. Instead, the author’s own
position on secularism is discussed in a detailed fashion (Chapter 6).

Curiously, the author’s claim that Indian secularism is based on the principle of
equidistance (pp 144–99) would seem problematic. How would then one situate
the protective minority rights within the Indian secular discourse, both at the levels
of law and politics? Equidistance dents any scope for preferential rights to religious
minorities. In addition, “If secularism means equidistance from all religious
groups, then the political biography of the Indian state belies the norm”
(Chandhoke 2010: 343). As equidistance fails to capture the essence of Indian
secularism, Bhargava (1998) treats “principled distance” as the hallmark of Indian
secularism. To conclude, there are several aspects of Lal’s life that need more
nuanced discussion. As this is an ongoing project, therefore, one would expect that
due attention would be paid to these issues in the next edition. These limitations,
by no means, dent the contribution of the book for shedding new light on the
thematics of nationalism and religious majoritarianism. Anybody bothered with the
country’s current state of affairs would find the book enriching. The style of
writing, the choice of words, and the poetic tonality further stimulate the reader to
read the book from cover to cover.

References

Bhargava, Rajeev (1998): “What Is Secularism For,” Secularism and Its

Critics, Rajeev Bhargava (ed), New Delhi: Oxford University Press,
pp 486–542.
Chandhoke, Neera (2010): “Secularism,” Oxford Companion to Politics in India,
Niraja Gopal Jayal and Pratap Bhanu Mehta (eds), New Delhi: Oxford University
Press, pp 333–46.
https://www.epw.in/journal/2023/3/book-reviews/inner-contradictions-
%C2%A0hindu-nationalist.html

Socio-economic Correlates of Early Marriage

of the Girl Child
Empirical Evidence from India
The study focuses on the early marriage of the girl child in India using the fifth
round of the National Family Health Survey. There are only nine states where
maximum cases of a woman being married off as a child are reported, with West
Bengal and Bihar taking the lead. Using multivariate logistic regression, it is found
that the cases of early marriage of the girl child are more prevalent among women
having a lower level of education and belonging to the poorest wealth quintile.

The United Nations Sustainable Development Goal 5 seeks to end all kinds of
discrimination against women and girls, including child, early, and forced
marriage. Thereby, it is important to address this issue in the present scenario so as
to attain the set target. Early marriage synonymously referred to as child marriage
as defined by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF 2020) is the formal or
informal unison of an individual before the age of 18. This practice undoubtedly
impacts both sexes, but girls are more likely to face the negative repercussions of
early marriage (Lebni et al 2020). Recognising that the burden of early marriage
falls disproportionately on girls, the United Nations Population Fund defines child
marriage as any union formed prior to the girl being physically, biologically, and
psychologically prepared to handle the responsibilities of marriage and parenthood,
which is often before the girl is 18 years old (Kyari and Ayodele 2014). It is
reported that every year close to 12 million girls are married before attaining the
age of 18 years (Paul et al 2019). To provide further context, statistics show that
one in three girls in developing nations marry before the age of 18 and one in five
girls marry before the age of 15 (Efevbera et al 2020). Furthermore, it has been
demonstrated in many instances that the young girl is likely to be married to a
mature man who is more than twice her age (Kyari and Ayodele 2014). The
motivation behind picking a prospective groom is not age but rather social,
religious, and financial factors, according to a report on early childhood marriage,
which outlines the justification of this practice (Adedokun et al 2012). This is
supported by research findings documenting that spouses are typically 12 years
older in monogamous unions, 15−20 years older in polygamous unions, and maybe
several decades older in certain rare situations (Kyari and Ayodele 2014).
However, in the past 30 years, there has been a decline in the practice of girl child
marriage under the age of 15, but as indicated by a large number of child marriage
cases under the age of 18, this practice is still common in South Asian countries
(Raj et al 2018) as 30% of girls growing up in South Asia experience early
marriage as compared with 25% in Latin America (UNICEF 2020). In the absence
of any measures being taken, more than 150 million additional girls will have to
become child brides by 2030 before they attain 18 years of age (UNICEF 2019).

Now if we see this issue in the Indian context, then the problem is a complex one
owing to the difficulty in tracing the origin of child marriage in the ancient period
(Gopal and Paul 2008). Minor girls’ marriages in India are usually arranged by
their parents, local authorities, or extended family members, sometimes with their
consent and sometimes without (Raj 2010). The National Family Health Survey
(NFHS)-5 findings reveal that every fourth woman surveyed between the age
group of 20−24 in India is married before she turned 18. According to a review of
the research, the three main factors influencing the marriage of girls are the
households’ high levels of poverty, engrained cultural beliefs, and the assumption
that marriage provides protection (Nour 2009; Mehra et al 2018). It is reported that
girls from poor households are twice as likely to be married off as compared to
girls from wealthier households (Lloyd and Mahmood 2004) owing to the fact that
poor households have fewer opportunities and resources to invest in alternative
options, especially for their girl child (Parsons et al 2015). Other than this, the
marginalised households are generally victims of being influenced by their own
conventional notions, wherein they believe that once the boy starts earning, the
family would want more dowry, so they marry their daughters when they are
young (Randhir and Neha 2019). In addition, there have been occasions when girls
were married off while they were still very young because of a deeply held cultural
idea that daughters could endure harassment; and as a result, girls may be married
off early regardless of their age (Singh 2022).

Poor health outcomes (Mehra et al 2018), lack of decision-making power, impact

on mental health (Raj et al 2019), violation of child rights (Basha 2016) and
decreased opportunities for education (Randhir and Neha 2019; Raj et al 2019) are
some of the consequences of early marriage of the girl child. Studies have found
that early marriage jeopardises girls’ opportunity to attend school after marriage,
exposing them to social and health consequences (Delprato et al 2015). In a survey
of young mothers aged 15 to 24, it was observed that more than 60% had only an
elementary education (Adedokun et al 2012). In terms of negative health
repercussions, women who marry at a young age have more children to nurture at
young age and have larger families overall than women who marry later. Young
women give birth to a greater number of children owing to the lack of awareness
regarding contraception and other maternal health services (UNICEF 2019; Ahmed
et al 2013). The mortality rate among married females between the ages of 15 and
19 is double that of girls who marry after the age of 20, owing to unwanted and
repeated pregnancies at a young age (Ahmed et al 2013). This becomes one of the
most significant drivers of population growth, rising healthcare expenses, and
squandered opportunities for human advancement (Kyari and Ayodele 2014).
Talking about mental health, girls who marry before the age of 15 are 50% more
likely to suffer from intimate partner violence as compared to those who marry
later (WHO 2018). Additionally, studies have found that females who get married
before the age of 18 mostly become a victim of psychological illnesses like
depression and anxiety, and evidence suggests that they are also more likely to be
dependent on alcohol, drugs, and nicotine (Marphatia et al 2022).

Based on this background, it can be stated that the implication of early marriage of
the girl child is more severe in the Indian context, as despite the decline in the
number of child marriage cases in all states, the pace of change is gradual (Goli et
al 2015). Although the detrimental effects of child marriage have received
significant attention in a number of earlier studies (Paul 2020), only a few have
concentrated specifically on the socio-economic impact. Thus, in this article, we
attempt to investigate the socio-economic co-variants leading to the early marriage
of the girl child across India using a nationally representative cross-section sample
survey data.

Methods

Data Source

The present article is primarily based on the data of the fifth round of
the NFHS conducted during 2019−21. The NFHS-5 is a nationally representative
large-scale sample survey giving cross-sectional estimates of 6,36,699 households,
7,24,115 women aged 15−49 years and 1,01,836 men aged 15−54 years. NFHS-5
is vital in providing recent estimates pertaining to population, health and
demographic indicators. In the present study, the sample is confined to women
married before the age of 18 in India. The total sample size of such women in the
survey is 25,964.

Outcome Variable

The female marriage age is the outcome variable in our study, which is
dichotomous in nature, which is coded as 0 if the female marries after the age of 18
and 1 if the female marries before the age of 18.

Predictor Variable

In this study, the major predictor factors are socio-economic correlates. Using the
determinants, we have attempted to establish an association between the early
marriage of a girl child and the socio-economic characteristics that led to the
practice of early marriage. According to the existing literature, the socio-economic,
demographic, and other confounding variables considered in the study include
place of residence, religion of the female’s household, caste, education, wealth
quintile, and children ever born (Paul et al 2019; Raj 2010; Roy and Chouhan
2021).

Statistical Analysis

Simple cross-tabulation and binary logistic regression are used to perform an

analysis of the data. To determine the prevalence of child marriage, the age of the
female at the time of first marriage is considered which is cross-sectionally
presented using the socio-economic background of the women. All the statistical
analysis was done, using STATA version 16 (Stata Corp LLC College
Station, TX, US). The binary logistic regression model used for the analysis is
expressed in the following form:

Log [P/1-P] = β0 + β1X1+ β2X2+ β3X3 + β4X4+ β5X5+ β6X6+ ui

where P = probability of female getting married before attaining 18 years of age

(coded as “0”), 1-P = probability of female getting married after 18 years (coded as
“1”); X1 = place of residence (1 = Urban, 2 = Rural); X2 = Religion (1 = Hindu, 2 =
Muslim, 3 = Christian, 4 = Sikh, 5 = Others); X3 = Caste (1 = Scheduled Caste, 2 =
Scheduled Tribe, 3 = Other Backward Class, 4 = Forward Class); X4 = Educational
Attainment (1 = Illiterate, 2 = Primary, 3 = Secondary, 4 = Higher); X5 = Wealth
Quintile (1 = Poorest, 2 = Poorer, 3 = Middle, 4 = Richest); X6 = Children ever born (1
= more than 3, 2 = more than 2); β0 is the intercept term and ui represents the
unknown coefficients. The results of the binary logistic regression model are
presented using the adjusted odds ratio at 95% level of significance. The
application of sample weight has also been taken into consideration.
Furthermore, p-values are used to denote the level of significance.

Results

Prevalence of child marriage by states and mean age of marriage of women: A

statewise distribution of early marriage of the girl child shows that in a majority of
states, the proportion of females being married before attaining legal age is less
than the proportion of girl child marriage in India, of 38.2% (Figure 1). Among the
major states, Himachal Pradesh and Kerala have the lowest proportion of females
being married before 18 years (12.7%), followed by Uttarakhand (20.3%) and
Punjab (20.5%).
Our findings defy the widely held belief of the north−south divide in India as it is
observed that the practice of child marriage is prevalent throughout the country
regardless of the social differences. For instance, we find West Bengal to be a state
which reports the highest number of child marriage cases despite not being a poor
performer on other metrics of gender development. On the contrary, states like
Uttar Pradesh and Chhattisgarh have reported a lesser number of cases of early
marriage of the girl child even though they perform poorly on gender-based
parameters. Overall, we find that there are nine states where the incidence of early
marriage of the girl child is more prevalent. These states are considered focused
states in our study (Figure 2).
Figure 3 illustrates the prevalence of child marriage across states, where we find
that Bihar, West Bengal and Tripura are the three states where the prevalence of
child marriage is more than 50%, prompting suitable action. Further, a majority of
states are such (n = 14) where the prevalence of girl child marriage is between 35%
−50% followed by 11 other states having a prevalence rate of girl child marriage of
less than 25%.

According to our findings, the mean age at which a girl child is married in India is
18.1 years, which is the same as the age at which women can legally be married.
When it comes to the focused states’ category, the average age of marriage was
found to be 17.5, with West Bengal and Tripura having the lowest mean age of
marriage in the category of focused states. In the category of non-focused major
states, Jammu and Kashmir and Himanchal Pradesh have turned out to be better
performing states with a mean age of marriage around 19.6 and 19.5, respectively
(Figure 4).

Prevalence of child marriage by socio-economic and demographic

characteristics of women: As already discussed, in India, 38.2% of women are
married aged less than 18 years. However, the prevalence of early marriage of the
girl child is significantly higher among women residing in rural areas (40.3%) as
compared to their urban counterparts (31.1%). If we consider the scenario in the
context of focused states, a similar pattern is observed across a region-wise sample
where 47.7% females are married before turning 18 in rural areas and 39.2%
females less than 18 years are married in urban areas. In the focused state category,
the practice of early marriage of the girl child is common among Muslim and
illiterate women belonging to the poorest wealth quintile.

Regarding caste group, the rate of early marriage of the girl child is highest among
women belonging to the Schedules Caste wherein nearly half of the women are
married off as children (50.1%), followed by women belonging to other Backward
Class category (46.3%). In the focused state category, a religion-wise distribution
of the prevalence of girl child marriage is found to be 52.9% and 47.7% among
Muslims and Hindus, respectively. Concerning educational attainment, 62.2%
women married off as children are illiterate, while only 17.7% women married
during their childhood have a higher educational attainment. In terms of wealth
quintile, women belonging to the poorest (58.9%), poorer (53.5%) and middle
(44.5%) wealth quintiles have a substantially higher prevalence of child marriage
as compared to women belonging to richer (33.2%) and richest (24.4%) wealth
quintiles. Regarding the children ever born, in the focused states’ category, the
women married before attaining legal age have more than three children ever born
in 89.9% of cases, whereas the sample reporting more than two children ever born
is 44.8% (Table 1).

Socio-economic Correlates of Early Marriage of the Girl Child

Multivariate logistic regression analysis reveals that the place of residence has no
significant impact upon the adoption of the practice of early marriage of girl child
in focused states (Table 2). Compared to Hindu women, the odds of a female being
married as a child are lower among women practising Sikh religion (OR = 0.43;
95% CI: 0.22–0.82; p = 0.00). The likelihood of women being married before 18
years in the Schedule Tribe category (OR = 0.72; 95% CI: 0.66–0.79; p = 0.00) is
less than women belonging to Schedule Caste.

Females being married as a child is inversely proportional to their educational

attainment, as with the increase in educational level, the likelihood of early
marriage of the girl child decreases. Odds ratio pertaining to educational attainment
show that women with primary (OR = 0.91; 95% CI: 0.82–1.01; p = 0.07),
secondary (OR = 0.70; 95% CI: 0.64–0.75; p = 0.00) and higher education (OR =
0.24; 95% CI: 0.21–0.27; p = 0.00) are less likely to get married as children in
comparison to illiterate women. In the wealth quintile category, the likelihood of
early marriage of the girl child decreases with the increase in wealth status.
Women belonging to the richest (OR = 0.43; 95% CI: 0.37–0.51; p = 0.00) and
richer wealth quintiles (OR = 0.56; 95% CI: 0.50–0.62; p = 0.00) are less likely to
get married early as compared to women belonging to the poorest wealth quintile.
Discussion

The neglect of child brides in India is a direct manifestation of our collective

failure to defend young brides’ human rights; their stifled voices push them into
marriage before the age of 18, which forms the basis for further prejudice and
complacency against them (Thomas 2007). Women who are married as children
impede their decision-making power in the marital household, and alongside, they
are more likely to drop out of school, which increases the illiteracy rate among
them (Parsons et al 2015). Our study attempts to make a comprehensive analytical
assessment of the socio-economic factors that contribute to the early marriage of
the girl child. Previous studies have attempted to assess the socio-economic
correlates of child marriage (Roy and Chauhan 2021; Asna-ashary et al 2020;
Efevbera et al 2019; Modak 2019), however, there is a paucity of literature that
investigates the socio-economic correlates in the context of early marriage,
particularly of the girl child.

Our study finds that in the majority of states in India, the percentage of women
being married off as children is less than the national average. There are only nine
states (focused states) that have a percentage of the proportion of girls being
married before 18 years above the national average. The implementation of the
Prohibition of Child Marriage Act, 2006, which declares marriage of an individual
under the age of 18 to be a penal offence, has resulted in a decrease in the number
of occurrences of female child marriage over the years. Studies report that laws
that prohibit the marriage age of girls can influence public attitudes and political
debates (Arthur et al 2018).

Socio-economic correlates such as place of residence, religion, caste, and

educational achievement are key determinants influencing female child marriage
(Modak 2019). According to the socio-demographic data in the current study, the
prevalence of early marriage of a girl child is higher in rural areas than in urban
areas; however, this is refuted by our statistical analysis, which finds no significant
association between place of residence and early marriage of a girl child. Our
findings contradict the conclusions of Indonesian research, which found that a
young female’s place of residence is a substantial predictor of early marriage
(Marshan et al 2010).
The article also concludes that the prevalence of early marriage of the girl child is
significantly associated with the Schedule Tribes. This finding is consistent with a
study conducted in selected Indian states which finds that the probability of child
marriage of daughters is 6.7 percentage point higher in Scheduled Tribe families as
compared to another caste category (Mishra and Banerjee 2020). In this study, we
found that educational attainment is a major predictor of young female marriage. A
significant inverse relationship between educational attainment and young girl
marriage is established. Women with lower levels of education had a higher
likelihood of getting married than women with higher levels of education. These
findings are consistent with many studies conducted in different settings (Santhya
2010; Sandhu 2017; Envuladu 2016; Raj 2017). Early marriage prevents girls from
finishing their education. In his study, Envuladu et al (2016) found that 82.4% of
married females were forced to drop out of school since they were married while
being enrolled at school. The findings of Raj et al (2017) provide credence to this,
establishing that after marriage, the decisions relating to her education are no
longer under her control; rather, the decision-maker in this scenario is the husband
or in-laws, who are frequently unsupportive of her school attendance.

Our analysis highlights that women belonging to the poorest wealth quintile are at
the highest risk of getting married at an early age as compared to women belonging
to the richest and richer wealth quintiles. A similar finding is reported in studies
conducted by Paul (2020), and Roy and Chouhan (2021). Marginalised families are
of the opinion that with the increase in the age of brides, the demand for dowry
also increases. Poor households see the early marriage of the girl child to be
economically beneficial in the short run. However, in the long run, it does not
improve the economic status as the young bride misses out on her opportunity to
work and contribute economically. Marrying women at an early stage leads to an
increase in the number of children ever born as found in our study. These findings
are in line with the study conducted by Pandya and Bhandari (2015) and Yaya et al
(2020). It is reported that women who are married before 18 years of age are eight
times more likely to have more than three children as compared to women married
above 18 years of age.
The study is not free from limitations as the data used is self-reported and may be
subject to some bias. Furthermore, we could not assess the relationship between
the number of children ever born to a woman getting married before 18 years and
the child and mothers’ nutritional status owing to our limitation to explore only the
socio-economic correlates leading to child marriage. We have only explored the
socio-economic status of the women while ignoring the socio-economic status of
the husband’s family. It is assumed that the family of the bride and groom share
the same socio-economic background. Despite its shortcomings, the study might
still be beneficial for stakeholders and policymakers in their attempts to prevent the
early marriage of the girl child. The results provide a firm foundation for the Indian
government’s proposal to raise the marriageable age, particularly for women, from
18 to 21 years. It can serve as a significant measure to get them on an equal footing
with men.

Conclusions

According to the study’s findings, girls in India are married on average when they
are 18.1 years old, which is exactly the same as the legal age for women to get
married. Only nine states, which we have referred to as focused states in our study,
record incidences of early marriage of the female child, where she is married
before the age of 18 years. However, the majority of states in India report a
marriage age of above 18 years. The socio-economic correlates of females being
married during their childhood reveal that there is a significant association between
a woman’s educational level and the wealth quintile to which she belongs. A
higher level of education reduces a woman’s likelihood of getting married as a
child. Raising the household’s economic status can have a significant impact on
abandoning the idea of child marriage since it is most frequently reported among
women in the lowest wealth quintile. It is advised that policies be developed that
are centred on women and prioritise the stringent implementation of laws that
forbid the institution of underage marriage, particularly of females. In addition,
governments should pay more attention to rural and marginalised communities,
where the majority of female child marriages occur.

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