That various shades of pressure groups are also politically conscious and looking for the time and opportunity to enter active politics goes without saying. This has been the norm in Meghalaya. But there are other ways of playing politics than the present style of coercing business establishments, central and state government offices, banks and post offices to close shop on some pretext or the other. The question is who has empowered these pressure groups to force the entire city to come to a standstill? And why is it that the law stands by to watch such lawlessness being perpetrated in broad daylight? What does this say about the rule of law in Meghalaya? Or has this rule of law collapsed under the weight of societal pressures to conform to the diktat of sundry pressure groups?
The sudden demise of Dr Ricky AJ Syngkon is a matter of grief and pain for all in Meghalaya irrespective of political affiliations. But knowing Dr Syngkon, he would not have wanted any kind of disruption of normal life. In his life he avoided any spectacle and drama within Parliament and outside it. His behaviour was genteel and respectful of all voices. This aspect should have been borne in mind by those forces of coercion who believe that only by closing down shutters can there be real mourning.What these forces of oppression refuse to admit is that when shops are forcibly closed, the nature of the gesture shifts from voluntary respect to compelled compliance. While these groups may believe they are protecting the “dignity” of the funeral and ensuring maximum participation and to avoid what they perceive as disrespect for the MP. But coercion such as these raise ethical and democratic concerns. A tribute rooted in compulsion risks contradicting the values of public service and democratic freedom that elected representatives are meant to uphold.The question that also arises is whether Dr Syngkon would have wanted normal economic activities to come to a standstill because of his death. As a Member of Parliament in the Lok Sabha, Dr. Syngkon was part of a system grounded in constitutional freedoms — including the freedom to work, conduct business, and make personal choices. Most public leaders who dedicate their lives to service do so with the intention of empowering citizens, not restricting them.
A forced shutdown can unintentionally disrupt the income of daily wage earners, small traders and vendors. Above all it creates a climate of fear and resentment rather than genuine mourning. Dr. Syngkon valued public goodwill and democratic norms and it can well be argued that he would have preferred voluntary homage — people paying their respects by choice rather than obligation. This incident raises a broader issue about political culture in the North East and across India. Mourning a public leader is deeply emotional and communal. But true respect is demonstrated through upholding the rule of law; respecting individual freedoms and continuing the work the leader believed in. A forced closure may appear powerful at the moment, but it does not necessarily reflect the maturity of a democratic society. In the end, the most meaningful tribute to Dr. Ricky Syngkon would likely not be shuttered shops, but citizens carrying forward his vision — whatever they understood that to be — through peaceful participation in public life. Grief should unite people, not compel them.
