Banyan Tree Adventures

by Keith Forrester

  In the light of the 2016 Brexit vote in Britain, it is probable that Chandavarkar’s insights on Englishness and the place of India within that are likely to remain a source of consternation and fascination for many years to come.

  Chapter 6

  The ‘Uncertain Glory’: poverty and riches

  Searching for that key

  “We don’t understand much as tourists,” remarked Janet when I asked her about everyday life in India. Later during the same conversation, however, she let slip that “it makes you realise that it’s the same for everyone – people want their children to be fed, to go to school, to get a job. There are the same needs.” More than anyone else I talked to, Janet and Mike had travelled the most throughout India from the far north-east and north-west, along the eastern coast and throughout the south. While most aspects of people’s lives are beyond our understanding “as tourists”, they had experienced enough to have perhaps an inkling of some aspects of daily life. As a general category, tourists to any part of the world are not likely to be that interested in the culture and lives of their ‘hosts’. After all, they have come for a tour of a city, a visit to a number of famous monuments or maybe a hot two weeks on the beach under the palm trees. Next year they might return but, more likely, they will take in another country. By contrast, more frequent visitors to the same country especially those that travel around are likely to be a little familiar with some aspects of Indian life and culture. Even if they remained puzzled or bewildered it would be interesting, I thought, simply to know what issues and aspects of local life interested them.

  Nevertheless, Janet’s observation that “we don’t understand much as tourists” still holds. We don’t. Worse still, most of us don’t want to ‘understand much’. However, a few of the people I had interviewed had developed quite a detailed understanding of particular aspects of Indian life. Helle from Denmark for example had not only immersed herself in Indian cinema over the last twenty years or so, but actually made two films in India. Sany from France had lived and studied in Indian centres of religion and classical music. Jeff had augmented his passion for cricket ‘back home’ by visiting stadia and watching matches around India over the last decade or so.

  However, language, culture, colour, power, gender, religion and history are a few of the filters and obstacles that minimise these understandings for all us foreigners and probably too are the sources of many misunderstandings. The variety and complexity of Indian life and culture is both an attraction of visiting tourists and also a source of frustration. Taken-for-granted assumptions don’t work in India which is why most of the people interviewed mention ‘observation’ or ‘just looking’ as important activities. Just watching street life or visiting local eating places or taking a local bus trip assume significant sociological importance. That doesn’t mean some visitors from abroad especially regular returners are not interested in issues such as poverty or education or health. Indeed they spend much time discussing these topics in an attempt to understand and make sense of people’s well-being, livelihoods and ambitions.

  Part of the difficulties in these discussions is identifying ‘which India’ is being discussed. It seems that for any particular example or perspective there is a contrary example or perspective that can be suggested. The complexity of the country’s history, social structure, economy and culture are so great that it threatens to overwhelm efforts to understand. Even for those living in the country, the difficulties are great. Those Indians living in the northern states for example have little in common with those from the south. Sometimes, without the use of English, they cannot even communicate with each other. Different histories, climate, religions, music and languages are only some of the obstacles of ‘being an Indian’.

  A second difficulty is the absence of some overarching narrative that integrates India into some global context. The only story today that seems to provide the reference point for any report or journalistic account of the country is the economic growth rates over the last two decades. This is the ‘handle’ that the rest of the world seems to need in order to make sense of any developments within the country. Even this angle, until recently anyway, runs secondary to stories about China’s economic growth rate. The difficulties we from the West have in discussing India is in knowing and grasping how its past shapes and remains visible in its present and likely future. The recent prominence of stories in the Western media about violence involving ‘gau raksha’ gangs or cow vigilantes patrolling roads in their attempt ‘to save cows’ is a more difficult narrative to situate in understandings of modern India. Our largely accepted linear perspective on the advance of modernity in the West doesn’t hold for India or many other non-European countries. Important aspects of the ‘modernity’ story such as the break with tradition, the rise of secularism and of capitalism raise very uncomfortable issues for important sections of the population, and for India’s place and status within the global community. In fact I wonder whether the very notion of ‘modernity’ is that helpful in seeking to make sense of India today. While the term is commonly used in the West as a shorthand for this transition from the traditional to the modern, it also implies new experiences and understandings of the world around us. Above all, the term suggests the making anew of social and economic arrangements and relationships through the active and conscious intervention of actors. New understandings of the self and the collective emerge within a framework that is both exhilarating, exciting and enabling – liberating as well as alienating. As the sociologists put it, a new ‘subjectivity’ is made possible with the self as a conscious and purposeful agent. Analytically useful as the term might be in diagnosing the transition from medievalism to capitalism in the West, ‘modernity’ has less use as an interpretative prism outside this particular historical and geographical experience. It is too crude, blunt and ideologically specific a term to do justice to the social fabric and complicated historical developments in India. So what is the key conceptually to opening up these puzzles? I don’t know – which is one of the reasons why I enjoy returning to the country year after year. It’s not all done and dusted.

  I do like though the notion of ‘citizenship’. This term, I feel, is a useful vehicle for interpreting, situating and discussing changes occurring within the wider socio-political environment. It provides space, for example, for exploring and rethinking the relationships between governance and agency and also the quality and patterns of social institutions within particular political arrangements. Active participation by citizens – socially, economically and politically – are prioritised. ‘Active’ as opposed to ‘passive’ are qualities that I think are important and which interest me. A focus on citizenship moreover can be seen as a useful framework for those interested in wider yet more particular issues such as environmental or gender issues. Here, previously accepted assumptions and relationships of power, sexuality and equity are the focus of critical inquiry. More generally, citizenship concerns (or should that be ‘democratic citizenship’ or ‘active citizenship’?) raise issues such as social inclusion, access, participation, belonging and equity – again, issues which I think are important.

  Citizenship doesn’t figure that strongly in my readings and discussions about India. Interestingly though, Edward Luce in his recent book In Spite of the Gods: The Strange Rise of Modern India concludes his readable account of modern India by noting “a lack… of genuine citizenship.” As he rightly notes, “Most people who sample Indian food, music, dancing, literature, architecture and philosophy acquire a lifelong taste for all things Indian. If world trade were to be conducted purely in cultural products then India would have a thumping annual surplus.” However, this lack of ‘genuine citizenship’ is largely because it is “presumed to be a reality. But in practice India falls far short of the claims it makes.” This absence of ‘genuine citizenship practice’ he argues imposes a high moral cost on the country. An examination of poverty, gender, religion or nationalism today illustrates some of these contradic
tions and ‘moral costs’. The crushing weight of poverty for substantial sections of the population, the position and role of women, child marriage, the perseverance of caste, the unequal access to education and health all contribute towards an uneven and distorted ability to play an active part in society. Active citizenship – the belonging and the participating – falls short in most societies and not only India. As such, the idea provides a critical prism through which to examine important societal features. In India this can be a cruel exercise. The contrast between its rich cultural diversity and ever-present histories with participation in civil society based on mutual respect and societal rights falls short, big time.

  For us as tourists who as Janet correctly points out, “don’t understand much”, grasping aspects of this reality is difficult. ‘Being in India’ offers glimpses, however inadequate, of this citizenship subtext just as much as the Taj Mahal, the Himalayas or the beach does.

  The shock of the everyday

  Puzzlement and amazement by travellers are normal reactions to any attempt at making sense of perceived everyday life in the host country. Integrating these largely visual experiences with prior understandings and stereotypes is a complex and often contradictory process. Things don’t add up, appear bizarre, overtly friendly, rude or unintelligible. Unsettling experiences are matched by displays of friendliness, warmth, generosity and of a genuine sense of welcoming. Poverty, homeless families living on the pavements of Indian cities and emaciated portraits of children are, however, the popular, global images from India that keep flashing around the world. So entrenched are these images and views of India that many overseas tourists refrain from visiting the country. “I don’t think I could cope,” is a popular response. However, a walk around any of India’s cities might suggest another perspective – trendy, affluent, modern, urbane, coffee-drinking busy people. Most of the popular press seems to promote such a perspective. Once again, we return to the difficulties of trying to encapsulate the complexity and richness of the country that is called ‘India’. It is baffling as is any shorthand attempt to generalise about any country. In the case of India, however, these two bland, seemingly contradictory views of wealth and poverty preface many print discussions of modern India. As the Indian magazine Outlook, for example, recently put it, “is India doing marvellously well, or is it failing miserably?” For most of the world though, it is the images of poverty that most commonly are associated with the country. The issue of poverty in India is a real and pressing concern. It does have an indelible and lasting impact on visitors to the country and raises myriad questions and concerns. Sending spaceships up into the skies and building Formula One racetracks don’t sit comfortably with outsiders and probably also a lot of people in India. Many of the regular visitors to the country involve themselves in some form of giving and charity even though they are aware that their efforts are not going to resolve the problems. It’s a way of coping. Less open and understood by the traveller is how people in general ‘get by’. How do they earn their living, what do they get paid if anything, how many hours a day do they work, how did they get their job? Sometimes, it’s as basic as simply wanting to know, “What are they doing?” Most people are interested in this ‘work’ gossip because they have participated in some version of this back home. And of course, there are glimmers of an answer around them in the streets, not only in India but any city. Wandering around London for example, there are the expensive cars and houses, people begging, posh hotels next to churches that shelter the homeless at night and a ‘tourist’ architecture that reflects a narcissistic glory and power of its past. The economic and political structures that support and define these scenes and livelihoods, however, are harder to decipher. The newspapers as usual provide clues as do conversations with the ‘locals’. But sitting on the buses or trains raises more questions than answers. For my Japanese friends regularly visiting the north of England, the highlight of their stay is always having access and photograph opportunities to the sheep that populate the hills and fells of the north. Fields with cattle are not entered – too dangerous. Different cultures lead to different priorities and highlights.

  The same is true for visitors to India. For those from the West, it is as intense and bewildering as it would be for Indians visiting Britain. There would be a general awareness of India’s recent history as it is a heroic global story recounted in many schools from around the world. There would also be a recognition of the recent economic success of the country, and its likelihood of becoming a global economic power on a par with China in the decades ahead. But perhaps above all, there would an awareness of poverty and the numbers of poor in the country. Not that long ago, the issue of poverty was the dominant image associated with the country; today, it is more confused and contradictory. There are poor people but there is also a record of economic growth and success that Western countries can only envy.

  “Friends said they would love to come to India but said they wouldn’t be able to handle the poverty, but I said, ‘Forget about the poverty – just go’,” said Sany from France when I asked her about the poor in India. “Poverty is happening all over the world. India hits you bigger – your emotions, it’s so quick.” She continues getting quite animated, “How can they keep smiling – no legs, begging. They’re just not smiling, they are shining, radiant peace. It’s an inner something. For sure, it’s to do with their religion. In this country, if they stopped believing in karma there would be a massive riot. Resignation, not screaming. It’s the karma that keeps them quiet.”

  “It’s part of the culture shock,” said Stephen. “There are so many poor people in the streets, you can’t help everyone. When I first arrived in Mumbai, it was terrible – a massive shock. It is so great a problem that whatever we do we can’t make a difference.”

  Janet and Mike from Colorado too had pondered on this issue. “My understanding is that India has nearly 300 million graduates which is nearly the population of the US and yet they have all these poor people. What’s so amazing is their spirit. These people have little but the kids seem generally happy – playing, chasing, smiling. They seem to be happy even though they had insufficient food last night. It makes you realise that it is the same for all humans; you want your children to be fed, to be educated, to be safe, all the same needs.” This characteristic of resilience and seeming fortitude in face of acutely difficult material circumstances was mentioned by most of the people I interviewed.

  For any outsider travelling in India, the poor and poverty in general is a difficult issue. You are aware of it before you arrive. You have chosen to come despite the poverty. No one visits India without being aware of ‘the starving children’ images. Many no doubt chose not to come. “I do whatever makes me happy,” explains Sheila when I raised the issue of coping with the poverty. “I say no, then look, and it’s a deserving case. Some say you should give, others say no, so I do whatever makes me feel OK. It’s the only way to do it because inevitably you are going to disappoint. Some local people give, others don’t. I remember on a train, I saw these men kicking a poor beggar boy. I was on the top bunk and came down like a bat out of hell I was so angry. They were shocked and contrite. I thought afterwards I shouldn’t have done it like that, but I just reacted instinctively. It was because he was sitting in a seat in the compartment. No one was sitting there. Before I got off the train, I went over and shook hands with the men, but you don’t know what goes on.”

  “You have to work it out,” says Gina. “That’s part of being in India.” She’s right. Everyone has to work it out and come up with a solution that’s acceptable to them. It might be a pragmatic, on the spot decision – to give or not to give; it might be more radical, involving changes in one’s own life and activities based on new understandings or it might just be a case of ignoring the poor. In Gina’s case, she and Mick have for many years been involved with an indigenous humanitarian NGO in Mumbai that focuses on street orphans, HIV awareness programmes and feeding programmes. “We
send bits and pieces, have visited them and support them. They teach kids and give them a meal a day.”

  Everyone, locals and foreign tourists, responds to the plight of the poor usually in a generous and spontaneous manner. The worry though are responses that marginalise or eliminate thinking about the conditions or structural reasons relating to ‘why there is this poverty’. Why in most parts of the world is there entrenched and growing poverty? Yes, there might be baddy politicians and rampant corruption in particular countries, and there might also be global economic policies that benefit us in the affluent countries and which we are keen to politically support but which play a part in this poverty elsewhere. In other words, enjoying our Western lifestyles might be dependent on maintaining poverty levels elsewhere.

  A further issue underpinning this stereotypical view of ‘poverty’ and ‘India’ is its ahistorical perspective. India hasn’t always been associated with poverty, famine or starving children. As was mentioned in the previous chapter, India has had trading routes stretching back thousands of years and Adam Smith in his The Wealth of Nations (1776) detailed some of the reasons for India’s comparative prosperity. With the arrival of the East India Company, the British government saw the industry and exports from India as a threat and went as far as prohibiting the wearing of Indian textiles. As the British journalist and author Ian Jack reminded us recently, we the British flooded the Indian markets with cheap fabrics after cutting off the fingers of the Bengali artisans and breaking their looms. “India still grew cotton, but Bengal no longer spun or wove much of it. Weavers became beggars.” As in other regions of the world, there is the persuasive tale of Britain deliberately impoverishing India. A little bit of history sometimes helps when considering ‘the poor’.