Anna's India: Why a sob story works better than logic

The hunger strike resonates with the Indian public for two reasons: one, that there is a civilisational respect for asceticism; two, that we have all been fed a certain line non-stop about how independence was won from the British. The first is genuine enough: one of India’s civilisational values has been the idea that renunciation and the conquest of the inner self are abiding aspirations of all humans. Oddly enough, the best expression of this sentiment that I can remember is from that arch-imperialist Rudyard Kipling, and his story The Miracle of Purun Bhagat, where the wealthy prime minister renounces everything and adopts sanyasam. Quite possibly the fact that I appreciate the four ashramas of classical India via Kipling (of all people) suggests that I read the wrong things; or it may well mean that our leaders in their wisdom have extinguished any direct experience of the classics by the simple expedient of killing off Sanskrit. But I digress. There certainly is a lingering feeling in India that renouncing material desires is admirable; and what could be more admirable than giving up that most elemental of desires, food? (Well, maybe lifelong celibacy is almost as difficult – which is of course why the celibate prince Devavrata got the epithet Bhishma, he of the terrible oath, in the Mahabharata.) This ideal of the ascetic has come to us through the tales of Hindu sages and their fierce penances that mortify the flesh; equally, there are the stirring tales of the Buddha and his tapas. I remember a particularly striking Gandharan sculpture of an emaciated, starving but radiant Buddha at the moment that he achieves enlightenment. In one sense, those who use the hunger strike as a political weapon are following in the illustrious footsteps of these great sages. Equally, however, the hagiography of Mahatma Gandhi is another inspiration: we have been told from childhood that it was Gandhi’s nirahara satyagrahas (hunger strikes) that shamed the imperialist British into recognising the wickedness of their ways. I personally find that hard to swallow, knowing the British – you know, the same people who rioted like Vandals and Goths put together just a couple of weeks ago. There is little reason to believe that all the soul-force in the world would have gotten the British to exit India, if they were not suffering from imperial over-stretch. Plus, there is the fact that they had already sucked India dry to the tune of some $10 trillion in today’s money: there was nothing left to loot. [caption id=“attachment_69145” align=“alignleft” width=“380” caption=“Anna Hazare’s means – a hunger-strike is naked emotional blackmail – are not quite so admirable. PTI”]  [/caption] In any case, this business of hunger strikes – and I use the term ‘business’ advisedly – has become a standard stock-in-trade of the political class in India. After having seen the depths of criminality that politicians plumb – look no further than the 2G scam and the CWG scam – it is hard for the average Indian to believe that ethics and fair-play are of any interest to the politician. The hunger-strike has become nothing more than yet another tactic in the arsenal of those who wish to coerce the state into doing something that they want, which may or may not be in the best interests of the state per se – and I don’t mean the Predatory State of reality, but the ideal state, the shining city on a hill. This is in the context of the ongoing hunger-strike by Anna Hazare, and I hasten to clarify that I am by no means imputing bad motives to him. His declared ends – the cessation of corruption – are unexceptionable, and nobody can argue with them. But his means – a hunger-strike is naked emotional blackmail – are not quite so admirable. And it is not just about Hazare. I believe that the tactic of a hunger-strike is dubious in and of itself. The reason is that it allows a small, motivated group to hold a much larger but less fanatic group to ransom through playing on their emotions. Once upon a time, it was the case that that a hunger-strike had some dignity and that it was meant to address a real problem. Today, I’m afraid it’s just a way for someone who has access to the media to make a point, and possibly push the state into things that it might not want to do, and most probably should not do. On the contrary, someone who is not blessed by the media gets misreported into oblivion. There was the remarkable case of the uncle of Sandeep Unnikrishnan, a martyred hero of 11/26. The uncle – whose name I forget – immolated himself in Delhi, and left crystal-clear diary entries that his suicide was an indictment of the system that allowed a martyr like Sandeep to go unmourned and unsung. But the media reports were bizarre: they said the uncle “wanted to experience the pain that Sandeep suffered”. It made him look like an eccentric, or at worst a nut-case. But the man was rational and was merely saying that the system sucked. Which is broadly what Anna Hazare is also saying, but Hazare has the advantage of media support. The true folly is that Indians take emotional decisions. There is no calm, systematic analysis of the consequences: game theory is virtually unknown to the decision-makers. They would not recognise negotiation theory if it were handed to them on a platter. This has been seen again and again even in foreign affairs – the latest was in the hoo-haa over a pretty Pakistani woman foreign minister who had media and babus all a-tizzy. One of the most disastrous recent instances of the state being railroaded into hara-kiri was the hijacking of Indian Airlines Flight 814 to Kandahar. The emotional appeals of the relatives of those on board were no doubt heartfelt and sincere, but a sinister personality, a well-known female politician, was caught on camera chivvying on these people to make extravagant, tear-jerking and grandstanding demands. The net result was the humiliating and pointless climbdown by India. Alas, one of many. Should a hunger-strike with its emotional appeal be given much more attention than a well-argued, logical and systematic appeal to your logical side? I don’t think so. But this is what happens in India time and again: a sob story gets results, not sober thinking. There is, of course, the counter-argument that there are very few other options available to the average person to show their displeasure about the state’s actions, as the state (the actual Predatory State) has expropriated, in Big Brother fashion, the right to tell citizens what to think. The state is simply not willing to listen to a logical argument, therefore an appeal to the emotions may be the only choice. Nevertheless, and while I support Anna Hazare’s declared objective (but alas, if a man is known by the company he keeps, there are a number of dubious characters who have latched on to his entourage), I find it hard to accept his methods. There really is no substitute for rational thinking and logic. Emotional arguments and blackmail are like fast food: they make you feel good right then, but then you feel empty in the morning.