Monday, May 24, 2021

On First Looking at the Indian Constitution

 


For those of us who dozed through Civics classes in school and did not elect to study Political Science in college, references to the Constitution evoke hazy notions of something very important confined to weighty books, dusty journals and erudite discussions between learned scholars far removed from our immediate concerns.

However, given the growing significance of constitutional questions in day to day lives of citizens -- especially issues of individual freedoms, civil liberties and the like -- an attempt to understand the nature of our Constitution becomes imperative.

Instead of attempting to ‘summarize’ any one of the huge number of books on the subject -- Granville Austin’s ‘classic’ study, The Indian Constitution-Cornerstone of a Nation  or even The Indian Constitution by Madhav Khosla for Oxford India Short Introductions series -- this post shall attempt to itemize the major questions that need to be asked about the Constitution. Once we have the questions clear, it may be easier to find answers than if one were starting cold on this vast subject.

The Constitution was drafted between December 1946 and December 1949 by a group of about 300 men and women, and the first question of interest relates to the nature of the group. How exactly was the group selected, by whom and what was its composition. Universal adult suffrage did not prevail in 1946 so just how representative of the people of India was the Assembly?

Some scholars have regarded the Constitution as a triumph – ‘a moral document embodying an ethical vision’ with the ‘theme of social revolution ‘running throughout the proceedings and documents ’. Universal adult suffrage, fundamental rights, the Directive Principles are all markers of a commitment to transformative social and economic development. Others, however, have argued that a document that incorporates large portions of the colonial Government of India Act of 1935 and severely constrains the rights and freedoms it purports to grant to its citizens has to be viewed a trifle differently. When many important colonial institutions, designed to rule rather than serve, are adopted along with the laws that govern their functioning, are not the promises illusory and the vision but a mirage?

Constitutions serve to establish structures of the state and its institutions and distribute power between them. How exactly has this been done in our case and has the balance shifted over time? Power has to be distributed to ensure checks and balances so that no particular institution has too much of it. Has this been done effectively? Importantly, what should be supreme, the will of an elected legislature or the judgement of an appointed judiciary?

Federalism is an oft mentioned word in our context. What, however, does it precisely mean? Are we federal, quasi federal, cooperatively federal or what? Instead of looking for an appropriate label and the related problems of definition, should we not try and itemize the relationship between the central government and the states in terms of the power each wields including legislative and financial powers?

And then there is the vexed question of the limitations on the fundamental rights of citizens, the reasonableness or otherwise of the conditions under which these constraints can be imposed and the availability of emergency powers to the central government. It may be important to recall here the circumstances in which the Constituent Assembly was doing its job; the violence and social disturbance, the problem of ‘integration’ of the Princely states, the uncertainty, the turmoil. As Dr B R Ambedkar put it, “The principles embodied in the Constitution are the views of the present generation or if you think this to be an overstatement, I say they are the views of the members of the Constituent Assembly.” Such blunt honesty is rare amongst political figures especially when the views of a leadership or political dispensation are effortlessly conflated with the views of the nation! Views are conditioned by circumstances, and at that point the circumstances were difficult, to put it mildly, and perhaps that explains the stress on a ‘strong centre’ and all that implies.

A larger question pops up here. Scholars have argued that if individual freedom is to be ensured the state must be constrained in its operation. If the state is to solve all economic and social problems, it must necessarily be granted powers to do so and this would inevitably ‘exact a heavy price on freedom’. The validity of this point of view needs examination.

Finally, it needs to be asked if all the high-minded rhetoric has had much of an impact on the common citizen. How has the ordinary woman or man used the provisions of the Constitution, especially the fundamental rights and the legal remedies to enforce them, in interacting with the almighty state and its perceived injustice?.

A fascinating account of this is to be found in Rohit De’s A People’s Constitution:The Everyday Life of Law in the Indian Republic. The author picks up sets of cases in four socio-economic areas to examine how the aam admi and aurat went to court to protect their fundamental rights and even when they did not win, caused serious turmoil in the complacent corridors of state power. The battle that Behram Khurshed Pesikaka, a middle aged government servant, waged against the state of Bombay regarding his prosecution under the draconian provisions of the Bombay Prohibition Act makes an amazing read. Just as gripping are the other cases that De highlights: the case of the honest prostitute, who went to court against the provisions of SITA as they violated her right to exercise her profession as guaranteed by the Constitution, is just one example.

Has the Constitution ‘worked’ in the seventy odd years it has been in operation is an obvious question to ask. And here, we may end where Granville Austin begins in the book cited above. The author contends in the preface that ‘Constitutions do not ‘work’, they are inert, dependent upon being ‘worked’ by citizens and elected and appointed leaders.’

So, at the end of the day, it is up to us-‘We the people of India’ -- and those whom we select to lead us, to determine if the vision of the founding fathers of a just and equitable society, is ever realized.

Happy reading.

Tuesday, May 18, 2021

On a first glimpse of Urdu poetry


 

 

A famous Urdu poet is reported to have said that Urdu is Khari Boli ( spoken North Indian Hindi) in Persian script. While this observation may be considered a bit of an exaggeration, perhaps for emphasis, it does serve to reinforce the contention that one can savour the joys of Urdu poetry without necessarily knowing the script. If one has access to a good Urdu/English or Urdu /Hindi dictionary one can plunge into the world of Urdu poetry without any effort at all. 

One excellent source for undertaking this exercise is the website Rekhta.org which has a wealth of poetry and accompanying it an online dictionary. One can select from Devanagari, Roman and Urdu scripts  and on encountering an unfamiliar Persian or Arabic word-many Persian and Arabic words are in fact very familiar to Hindi speakers- we simply select the word(tap and press it for a moment) and the meaning pops up! It is actually as simple and well organized as that!

Once one dives in ,one finds all the stuff of great poetry-love, humour, rebellion, pain ……

Humour always helps and one turns to Akbar Allahabadi for samples thereof. In these times when courts of law and litigation are taking up a lot of the public imagination a comment on lawyers by this poet who was also a sessions judge is as under

पैदा  हुआ  वकील  तो  शैतान  ने  कहा

लो  आज  हम  भी  साहिब-ए-औलाद  हो  गए

 

(Sahib e aulad  means father)

 

जब  ग़म  हुआ  चढ़ा  लीं  दो  बोतलें  इकट्ठी

मुल्ला  की  दौड़  मस्जिद  'अकबर'  की  दौड़  भट्टी

 

 

Firaq Gorakhpuri ranks high amongst modern  Urdu  poets and a glimpse of his work is of interest

किसी  का  यूँ  तो  हुआ  कौन  उम्र  भर  फिर  भी

ये  हुस्न  ओ  इश्क़  तो  धोका  है  सब  मगर  फिर  भी

हज़ार  बार  ज़माना  इधर  से  गुज़रा  है

नई  नई  सी  है  कुछ  तेरी  रहगुज़र  फिर  भी

…………………………

बहुत  पहले  से  उन  क़दमों  की  आहट  जान  लेते  हैं

तुझे  ऐ  ज़िंदगी  हम  दूर  से  पहचान  लेते  हैं

-----

एक  मुद्दत  से  तिरी  याद  भी  आई  न  हमें

और  हम  भूल  गए  हों  तुझे  ऐसा  भी  नहीं

-------

मौत  का  भी  इलाज  हो  शायद

ज़िंदगी  का  कोई  इलाज  नहीं

 

Mirza Ghalib is of course the tallest figure in the genre

vo aa.e ghar meñ hamāre ḳhudā kī qudrat hai

kabhī ham un ko kabhī apne ghar ko dekhte haiñ

A glimpse of Ghalib’s ever enquiring, questioning, restless mind

रेख़्ते  के  तुम्हीं  उस्ताद  नहीं  हो  'ग़ालिब'

कहते  हैं  अगले  ज़माने  में  कोई  'मीर'  भी  था

 

And this brings us naturally to Mir (1723-1810)

इश्क़  इक  'मीर'  भारी  पत्थर  है

कब  ये  तुझ  ना-तवाँ  से  उठता  है

 

(Na Tava means weak or feeble)

क्या  कहूँ  तुम  से  मैं  कि  क्या  है  इश्क़

जान  का  रोग  है  बला  है  इश्क़

Mir wrote during difficult times-the decay of the Mughal Empire and the rise of Company Bahadur to power. And the depression shows

शाम  से  कुछ  बुझा  सा  रहता  हूँ

दिल  हुआ  है  चराग़  मुफ़्लिस  का

 

दिल्ली  में  आज  भीक  भी  मिलती  नहीं  उन्हें

था  कल  तलक  दिमाग़  जिन्हें  ताज-ओ-तख़्त  का

……..

अमीर-ज़ादों  से दिल्ली  के  मिल  न  ता-मक़्दूर

कि  हम  फ़क़ीर  हुए  हैं  इन्हीं  की  दौलत  से

In more recent times, we have Jigar Muradabadi (1890-1960)

ये  इश्क़  नहीं  आसाँ  इतना  ही  समझ  लीजे

इक  आग  का  दरिया  है  और  डूब  के  जाना  है

………………..

तेरी  आँखों  का  कुछ  क़ुसूर  नहीं

हाँ  मुझी  को  ख़राब  होना  था

…………………………..

आदमी  आदमी  से  मिलता  है

दिल  मगर  कम  किसी  से  मिलता  है

…………………………..

हमीं  जब  न  होंगे  तो  क्या  रंग-ए-महफ़िल

किसे  देख  कर  आप  शरमाइएगा

The list goes on and on. But this is not an anthology. To borrow a phrase from a very different context-it is just a finger pointing at the moon.

Have a look, it’s rather beautiful.

Happy reading