By Janet Hujon
Following the recent attempt to, let us call it ‘unsettle’ the chief minister and his entourage in Tura, the health minister made a couple of comments that I found rather curious (Shillong Times, July 28th 2023). Firstly, she advised putting an end to the “mafia political warfare” that is disrupting the “otherwise peaceful state”. She urged the people of the state to say “…no to this intrusive application of political patronage which is becoming a dangerous trend”… (italics mine). Taken out of the context of Meghalaya today, both statements are definitely goals worth pursuing. But surely describing Meghalaya as an ‘otherwise peaceful state’ where political patronage is only ‘becoming’ a dangerous trend,’ could not be further from the truth.
What about the recent arson attacks in Laitumkhrah, which led to the imposition of a curfew (albeit short lived) by Deputy Commissioner Kurbah on grounds that ‘Shillong is no longer safe’ (ST, July 12th); the attack on the health minister herself cannot be shrugged off just because the assailant was labelled mentally unstable − the wider implications of why she was targeted should be probed; the continuing unease in the border areas following the Mukroh firing; the alleged extra-judicial killing of Cheristerfield Thangkhiew and its aftermath; the deepening of communal tensions and the exploitation of the same by parties interested in deepening the divide is becoming more apparent despite counter arguments from the government. And this time it is not only between dkhar and tribal but between one tribe and another as seen in the HNYFs opposition to the Garo demand for a winter capital. Many years ago my grandfather Josingh Rynjah noted: ‘Ri Khasi − disunity is thy name’, but now it looks as if the Garo camp too is increasingly fragmented. Who is going to blink first and who will press the trigger? And will those burying their heads in the sand behind their gated mansions escape the carnage, and will only the innocent get caught in the cross hairs?
As for the minister’s second comment, I guess we should be grateful that at least the presence of political patronage is acknowledged. Although, with a few exceptions, hasn’t political patronage been the modus operandi in Meghalaya almost since its inception? Why else should we see political appointees being parachuted into departments, the functioning of which, they have no clue or where they are not necessarily needed. And talk about the persistent practice amongst current and wannabe politicians to buy support and no one willing to betray the gaggle of geese laying the golden eggs. Lucky patrons. As long as this cycle of cold-calculation and dependency on easy money continues, Meghalaya will be forever crippled and impoverished by her self-seeking politicians and their minions. ‘Trend’, I fear, is too innocuous a term for a practice that has torn the moral fabric of Meghalaya to shreds exposing only a profound sense of dark helplessness.
Meanwhile the deputy chief minister’s contribution to the conversation is unhelpful. Eyes roll everybody because it ’seems’ the violence is politically motivated (how convenient), and that the police should be more “aggressive” and “proactive in investigating such issues”. (July 28th). As usual the buck stops elsewhere. I would have thought that a thorough investigation automatically follows any act of unlawful violence and no reminder is required.
And what self-serving hypocrisy! Why should this threat to the chief minister matter more than the actual brutal killing of Sub-Inspector Pearlystone Marbaniang in 2015, or the death of miners in coalmines where safety standards are non-existent? But did we see a thorough investigation there? No, and why not? Apparently for fear of disturbing the stench of political patronage which any police action would have stirred up. Yet now is it because your own tails are scorched, that you suddenly become less complacent and feel the need for urgent vigilance? Thank goodness that in this bleak and unjust universe the flame of justice burns bright in the beacon of hope called the High Court – someone cares.
And what is exactly meant by ‘aggressive’? In this current volatile climate where emotions are running high, it is inadvisable to use words that could come back to haunt you. And as I write this article, events have moved on. Conflicting narratives have begun to emerge. NGOs now consider the arrests following the Tura incident as actions ‘indicative of an authoritative (sic – but should it not be authoritarian?) government‘. (Note authoritative means commanding and self-confident; likely to be respected or obeyed, which is clearly not the way the NGOs feel towards the government at the moment. Authoritarian meanwhile is favouring or enforcing strict obedience to authority at the expense of personal freedom, and this my friends more accurately describes the mood of the agitators in Tura).
Ultimately what the Tura ‘incident’ must make us do is interrogate what we mean by a ‘peaceful state’. It is not just the absence of overt violence that indicates peace, although that is undeniably crucial. But ensuring peace of mind built on trust in a government working for and not against you is even more important for it is this that will guarantee lasting peace. Most of us accept that struggles are part of the human condition but hardship is bitterly resented if one notices that one’s unhappy lot is because those in power see nothing wrong in pampering themselves by the gross accumulation of looted wealth while ignoring the basic needs of the majority. I wonder if in their plush mansions, they ever spare a thought for those who can barely afford to put food on the table. Heartlessness now patently resides at the heart of government. Yet most revolting of all we are made to endure the scream of sirens sweeping the long-suffering hoi-polloi aside so our ministers can whiz their way through our traffic-choked streets. What a shameless display of power worthy only of tin-pot dictators.
Leading a charmed and easy life untouched by the struggles of the common people, those in power have removed themselves from life as the rest of us know it – they have in effect systematically added another facet to the ‘Them & Us’ culture. We can no longer recognise ourselves in ‘Them’ (not that we want to) even though we may belong to the same tribe and speak the same language. Thanks to their lifestyles they are no longer one of us – they are in essence ‘foreigners’ in our midst. No more are we privileged to feel that comforting sense of being a distinct community of ‘riewlum’, of hill people nurtured by common ideals:
‘Ka don ka wan ka leit ryngkat;
Ka iap ka im ruh dang kawei
Synshar ka Suk shi Snieh Pyrthei.’
Comings and goings in sympathy in step
Welfare and woe of common concern
Concord’s dominion on the face of the land’
(Soso Tham: Ki Sngi Barim U Hynñiew Trep, Ka Meirilung)
A crass theatre of puppets and puppeteers has replaced the poet’s vision of a homeland once gentle with harmony and compassion.
(The writer can be reached at [email protected])