Democracy, direct to home

The subordination of political parties to populist leaders has cast a shadow on democracy. A representative party system is infinitely preferable to personalised forms of power

Delivering his third Independence Day address, Prime Minister Narendra Modihad remarked that he deliberately stayed away from populist measures that deplete exchequers and opted for a culture of governance. His referent point was, obviously, strategies that politicians employ to garner votes. In political theory, however, the term populism originates from the Latin term populous or ‘people’. If we take the political theory of populism as our cue, the Prime Minister appears quite a populist.

Let me hasten to add that in democratic contexts populists are not anti-democratic. On the contrary they claim to be true democrats, obsessed with rescuing democracy from the clutches of incompetent and venal elites. This class, it is alleged, has betrayed the confidence of citizens, and derailed the political system. Arvind Kejriwal does so directly and abrasively. Prime Minister Modi mockingly dismisses the Opposition. Both represent themselves as preferable alternatives to corrupt and non-performing elites. The second rescue operation launched by these leaders is to free popular sovereignty from the mediations of liberal democracy, and relocate the concept in ‘the people’. By appealing to ‘the people’ over the heads of democratic institutions deemed ineffectual and dishonest, populist leaders forge a personal constituency that they can confide in, admonish, and instruct.

Need for checks and balances

The problem is that ‘people’ is not a homogenous unit. The category is divided and hierarchised along the lines of class, caste, religion, ethnicity, gender, and sexual preferences. More significantly, ‘people’ are organised into majorities and minorities, and majorities — as our history tells us — can seriously impair the basic rights of minorities. For this precise reason, liberal democrats fear the ‘brute power’ of majorities and try to curtail the power of elected majorities through constitutions, legislation, judiciaries, and, more importantly, the institutionalisation of a system of checks and balances.

Notably, democracy is not only about a party that has won the largest number of seats taking over state power. It is about protecting the basic rights of all individuals, and, in particular, the rights of vulnerable minorities against depredations of majorities. This is secured through the establishment of procedures and institutions. That is why democratic governance is complex, time-consuming, and demanding. Each proposal has to go through several stages of scrutiny, including debates in the public sphere on the virtues or otherwise of the proposition on offer, before it is transformed into law. The insertion of layers of intermediary institutions that range from elected assemblies to civil society organisations, between citizens and the state, safeguards ordinary citizens against abuses of power.

The populist’s penchant

It is precisely the complicated procedural and institutional aspect of democracy that populist leaders are impatient with. They would rather reach out directly to citizens. There is, of course, nothing wrong with reaching out to people. The problem is that populist leaders show scant respect for the give and take of arguments during processes of decision-making. This can breed ominous outcomes: witness the sharp and painful crisis that followed demonetisation. The eminent statesman of ancient Athens, Pericles, had warned against decisions that do not take the consequences of a particular action into consideration. But populists defy laborious and cumbersome processes involving critique of, reflection on, and modification of proposed policy. They would rather take shortcuts and evoke naïve and simplistic notions of direct democracy. Direct democracy is, however, the ultimate illusion.

Let us not forget that in ancient Athens, participation in direct democracy was confined to property- and slave-owning males, provided they were born in the city-state. The rest were consigned to the lowly category of subjects. In complex societies, direct democracy simply does not work; it slides easily into populism and, worse, into the cult of the leader. Democracy is diminished.

Democracy is doubly diminished when the complexities of public opinion are simplified through the mechanism of snap referendums through the social media. Citizens have the right to debate on the pros and cons of ‘this’ or ‘that’ law, unearth hidden dimensions of issues, highlight grey areas, and propose alternatives. Snap polls that demand a simple answer — yes or no — in effect depoliticise the deliberative capacity of citizens and undermine their competence to skilfully debate all sides of an issue. It is precisely this aspect of deliberative democracy that populists avoid when they ask for instant referendums.

What history tells us

The proposition that populism harms democracy has been amply borne out by our history. Recollect Indira Gandhi, popularly known as the first populist leader in independent India. Taking over the reins of the Congress in adverse circumstances, she set out to consolidate her status. Regional leaders, who till then had wielded considerable influence in the party through a network of ‘big men’, were rendered irrelevant through the Kamaraj Plan, and by the 1969 split in the party. The announcement of radical programmes such as the abolition of privy purses of former princes and nationalisation of banks endeared Mrs. Gandhi to the political public. More significantly, she fashioned a nationwide constituency by detaching parliamentary elections from State Assembly elections. This enabled her to speak directly to citizens, and dispense with the mediation of regional satraps.

Mrs. Gandhi’s charisma, style and oratory gripped popular imagination. But the process of securing acclaim carried heavy costs. Concentration of power in the person of the Prime Minister spectacularly subverted democratic norms. Her call for a committed judiciary and a committed bureaucracy compromised the autonomy of both institutions. The Supreme Court undercut its own status as an impartial institution by supporting the Emergency declared by Mrs. Gandhi’s government.

More significantly, personalisation of power irreversibly damaged the Congress. Till the 1960s, the party was known as one that could skilfully reconcile diverse interests within the organisation. It had perfected the art of compromise. This changed after Mrs. Gandhi’s accession to power. The party was reduced to a group of courtiers paying ritual obeisance to a supreme leader. The Congress is today a pale shadow of what it used to be. Once it was a dynamic party that could mobilise millions, today the fate of the party is tied to the fate of the Gandhi family.

After Mrs. Gandhi, it is Mr. Modi who has caught the imagination of Indians across caste and class. He speaks directly and powerfully to them through the radio, social media, and televised speeches. We, of course, cannot respond to his suggestions. Most of his ministers do not utter a sentence except in his praise, his initiative, his courage, his imagination, and his expertise. What on earth has happened to the norm of collective responsibility, and to the status of the Prime Minister as the ‘first among equals’ in a parliamentary democracy? The BJP has till now privileged ideology and principles over individual leaders. Today the party hangs on to the coat-tails of the Prime Minister.

The BJP is not alone in this. The subordination of regional political parties to populist leaders has cast a shadow on the party system and on democracy. Parties mediate between leaders and citizens because they represent the interests of their constituency. Today parties have become practically irrelevant because the image of the leader looms large over them. This is a serious setback for democracy. A representative party system is infinitely preferable to personalised forms of power. It is time party organisations asserted their identity and control over leaders. Otherwise history will repeat itself not as ‘farce’, but as ‘tragedy’.

Neera Chandhoke is a former Professor of Political Science at Delhi University.

Source: The Hindu, 2-12-2016