By Deepa Majumdar
“When you are going about any action, remind yourself what nature the action is. If you are going to bathe, picture to yourself the things which usually happen in the bath: some people splash the water, some push, some use abusive language, and others steal. Thus you will more safely go about this action if you say to yourself, ‘I will now go bathe, and keep my own mind in a state conformable to nature.’ And in the same manner with regard to every other action. For thus, if any hindrance arises in bathing, you will have it ready to say, ‘It was not only to bathe that I desired, but to keep my mind in a state conformable to nature; and I will not keep it if I am bothered at things that happen.'”
This is the counsel of the Stoic philosopher Epictetus (A.D. 50-138 ) in his Handbook (Enchiridion). Were Epictetus alive today and a witness to the Indian elections starting next week, he might counsel the same to the Indian citizen. Indeed, what can we expect as the more than 800 million eligible voters exercise their franchise to choose the 543 members of the Lok Sabha? Will we reflect on the nature of democracy and its brief history in the context of India? Will we thank the British or curse them for imposing on us … undemocratically … this institution of parliamentary democracy? Or will we be indifferent? Will what Epictetus warns of in reference to the public bath of the first century AD be true of the Indian elections? Will people push, use abusive language, steal, etc.? Will Epictetus’ counsel of realism, or of keeping one’s choices in accord with nature, be adequate? Or should we protest vociferously, when we see corruption and lack of discipline undermining our democratic process? Every instance of realpolitik raises this same agonizing choice between idealism and pragmatism. Where idealism counsels protest of wrong doing, pragmatism, as Epictetus exhorts, asks us to expect the unpleasant and bear with it without complaining.
If by democracy we mean ruling by the consent of the people, then as a political system democracy is indeed a great leap forward for the cause of human dignity. By letting people choose their leader, and by mandating that the leader should rule by the consent of the people, democracy accords political dignity to the citizen … by balancing the power between the people and their leader. In principle, and by its very structure, democracy takes the sting out of authoritarianism. Like the risk of evil that inevitably accompanies free-will, the risk of authoritarianism inevitably accompanies any system of governance. To govern entails a degree of unavoidable moral authority … but not authoritarianism. A government has to prosecute, punish, lay down the law, and govern. All these roles involve moral authority … not merely the formal authority that comes with gaining the consent of the people. When a government fulfills these duties without first earning the legitimate moral authority that confers on it the right to rule, it converts authoritativeness or the power of leadership to worldly power. The difference between a democracy and a dictatorship lies in this meaningful distinction between the legitimate moral authority founded on principles of love between the people and their ruler … and the tensions inevitable when love is replaced by power.
But the larger questions perhaps have to do with the limits of the structured democracy … When does a democracy become self-centered, egotistic, worldly? Can a structured democracy deliver the principles of justice, amity, and well-being? When does a democracy become dictatorial? Often, a people and their leaders have a symbiotic relationship with each other. A people deserve their leader and a leader deserves his/her people. Thus, a very self-centered worldly people will be cynical about moral virtues, seeing these as weakening. They will vote out a good -hearted leader, after first expressing the brute pragmatism (a legacy of technology) so prevalent today, by asking, “Of what use is virtue?” This question is difficult to answer, because virtue is valuable in itself. The good will, as Immanuel Kant said, is good in itself. A worldly, materialistic populace, in love with technology, will demand a go-getter, who gets things done in a timely manner. It will favor efficiency above equity. It will reach for substance, not character. It will be fatally consequentialist in its demands … as in “we will vote for he who delivers the goods.”
This approach of the brutally pragmatic voter is very dangerous, for, more than any other credential, a leader should possess unblemished character and personal integrity … a love for truth … a calmness amidst crises … compassion for the underdog … and a commitment to social and economic justice. To ask for all this is to uphold the dignity of the democratic process. It is to discern between the institution of government and other institutions. The leader of a democracy cannot be a CEO, for the essence and purpose of government are fundamentally different from those of business. An ocean of difference separates naiveté from goodness. A good soul is anything but namby-pamby. On the other hand, a brutal vitriolic pragmatist can be deluded and naive in public affairs … blinded by egotism … and a lust for power.
It was not for no reason that both Plato and Aristotle rejected democracy. Given its inherent majoritarianism, a democracy always runs the risk of mob rule. Unfortunately what we are seeing of the structured democracy here in the west is something very self-centered, worldly, driven by pecuniary interests, hostile, and power hungry. When the leaders and the populace are both power hungry, ruling by the consent of the people becomes a farce. Democracy dwindles to a power struggle … with power replacing the bond of love between the leader and the people … with vitriol poured out between candidates, and from the populace to the leaders. A sense of entitlement replaces gratitude towards the leader. Alienation and suspicion haunt the populace so that conspiracy theories abound and the elected leader runs the risk of being assassinated. He becomes afraid of his own people and begins to pander to the whims of this mob. Ruling by the consent of the people now becomes distorted to dancing to the tune of the people. For now, the tyrants in question are the people … not the leader, who is their puppet. Added to all this is the truism that democracies are notoriously poor in producing good leaders. Great leaders are infused by the power of History … not by a man-made political structure like democracy.
Given all these limitations inherent in the very structure of democracy, how should the Indian citizen view the two main contenders for the upcoming general elections … Rahul Gandhi and Narendra Modi? Should they protest the vitriol poured by the latter towards the former? Should they reject the cynicism inherent in the assessment of the former as being “without substance”? At the same time, should they not acknowledge this supreme irony that dynastic politics persists within a functioning democracy?
But the “ordinary” Indian voter does not need my advice. He or she is under so much duress, that like any suffering person, he or she is an astute judge of character. He or she will choose wisely I am sure, even if there is precious little to choose from.