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Ashwin Mahesh

Justice Jain's ridiculous commentary about the sympathies of the 'Tamil people' is unbecoming of a man of his position

The truly lamentable feature of this past week's political wrangling is not that it has shown our politicians to be nothing more than schemers hoping for a crack at government and power. That, we already knew. Nor is the related uncertainty surrounding the economy and the stock markets much to mourn; that will eventually right itself once the charade takes a breather.

The worst sign of the current turmoil is, instead, the fact that a group of Indians has once again been cast as different from the others.

Listen to all the noises emanating from the various parties, as well as some of the analysis flowing freely on the pages of magazines and newspapers. The solidarity of the south, the perceived insults to Tamil pride, and the general schism of north-south divisions within the Congress party, all lend a constant thread to the many scenes being played out. The unspoken accompaniment makes a loud and clear statement about the south and southerners -- "It is a different place, they are different". In some cases, it is all of the south, in others it is only Tamils, but the theme is the same.

A completely unrelated turn of events has somehow been twisted into a focused discussion of a particular group. Justice Jain's ridiculous commentary about the sympathies of the 'Tamil people' is both a gross injustice to the group, and unbecoming of a man of his position. A judge, above all things, must know to separate the stereotype of a group from the individual, an aspect in which this particular judge has demonstrated abject failure. What Tamil people? Why can't he recognise the diversity of opinion within a democratic society? Why does the broad brush of his commentary not consider those of us who have never given a hoot about the Sri Lankans, Tamil or Sinhalese?

This kind of myopia is easily traced to a long-standing divide in Indian society. Of all the differences that span India, the most prominent is the north-south one. Linguistic divisions between states can become flashpoints from time to time. Religious minorities, concentrated in some states, provide a different contrast from the mainstream. The poor and the rich present a ubiquitous starkness to life that is so much a part of India. Yet, these differences are not quite the same as the big one -- north and south.

Much of this is real enough. Southern life is noticeably different from that of the majority of Indians, and is most evident in cuisine and language. And the depth of emotion that backs southerners's love of their own heritage is impressive. Many southerners see themselves as guardians of a distinct sub-identity within the national fabric. The uniqueness of this identity is best exemplified by the fact that the nation's largest political party is a non-starter in the south, and the second largest one is rapidly approaching that status.

Merely being identifiably different does not detract from full participation in national life. True, Dravidian parties in Tamilnadu, and many others in other southern states, have repeatedly voiced the adamant demand that our differences should not be submerged in the culture and commerce of the majority of Indians who live elsewhere. Yet, this clear line of division has never acquired enough force to become a popular movement for secession. I see this as the strongest commitment that any distinct group has ever made to the Indian whole. Contrast this with other corners of our nation, where distinct societies have violently sought separation from the union.

Our differences from the majority have never led to a dilution of our commitment to the greater brotherhood. We accept without question our loyalty to the Union, but many of us are anxious in equal measure that we remain identifiably different. Federalism is about the constitutional right to travel freely to other parts of India, and to settle there if we so desire. It is about according similar rights to other Indians, an invitation that they too should visit and partake in our cultural and economic offerings. Federalism appeals to us as a grouping in which the whole exists and is recognised, but everything that counts is in the parts.

The majority of Indian leaders have never fully grasped the significance of this sort of participation in nation-building. The apathy towards the North-Eastern states, and the willingness to attribute attitudes and actions to 'southern' preferences, 'Muslim' votes, and other such arbitrary groupings both stem from the same source -- the domination of political landscape by the numerical majority that lives in the heartland.

Such groupings are symptomatic of a greater failing of the Union -- the inability to understand the true meaning of federalism, and to sympathise with the variety of opinion that exists in different parts of our nation. This is a dangerous position -- if much of India sees all Tamilians as of one type, then the diversity of opinion within Tamil society is lost. This makes Tamilians more likely to ignore the Indian context, and engage more readily in other matters. The cause and effect begin to blur over time.

This is not my pitch for a separate state removed from the Indian whole. Indeed, as I said earlier, I see southerners as being among the most avidly Indian people. Yet, federalism, the notion of belonging to the cultural and geographic union without compromising the differences that make us unique, must have real meaning, or it will lose its appeal. Many northern politicians, drawn from communities more closely connected to the national culture because of sheer numbers, have never fully understood this stance.

The initiative to include all of India in the national consciousness is long overdue. North-Easterners have known for decades that this consciousness is terribly lacking in New Delhi. The media too has never paid much attention to our inherent diversity. Prominent columnists and reporters wax eloquent about one issue or another and offer plentiful ideas about southern this and southern that, but can't tell the difference between Tamilnadu and Tamil Nadu! What next, Kera La and Naga Land?

Mani Ratnam's successful movie Roja was not merely about patriotic flag-waving in the face of terrorist insurgency, although that's the spin it got after a hundred Bollywood critics had analysed it to death. As I saw it, in fact, it was mostly about the concerns of a society removed from such conflict, yet drawn into the muddle by its connection to the union. Why die in a faraway place in service of a nation whose commitment to us is almost as tenuous as it is to the people it is fighting now?

Yes, we are a different people. But we do recognise and embrace the destiny we share with other Indians. Our differences are real enough, but need not be divisive. The notion that all southerners are alike, and that any publicly stated positions of political parties must stem from some common southern identity, is myopic and silly. It is also a terrible disservice to the bonds that hold us together.

Ashwin Mahesh