How do we want to live?

But how can we take away religion? And why should we? The reason seems both simple and significant. For beneath the highly charged debate on Hindutva and secularism that has all sides screaming in support of one view or another is the crucial issue of how we—all of us—want to live. Do we, regardless of where we stand on the spectrum of opinion on religion in politics, want our various viewpoints spelt out in blood and mayhem or would we want the more civilised option open in a democracy?

Most people would argue it is not in their hands. But powerless though we may feel—and repeatedly we say we are—with regard to the degeneration of politics it is a phenomenon that mirrors a steep decline in social values. Consider some trends over the last few years and it is possible to see the connection. The declining respect for the law for instance is one. Few Indians have been admired in recent times as much as Harshad Mehta. Imprisonment and early death have not dimmed the attractiveness of a man who broke the law to amass wealth. His is not an isolated case. The quick social reinstatement of celebrities such as Azharuddin, Kapil Dev, Ajay Jadeja, Sanjay Dutt, Fardeen Khan— all tainted by serious allegations of wrongdoing reveals that respectability is no longer connected with morally upright behaviour. It is a development that has long encouraged the open flouting of laws at various levels.

There is a tendency however to look indulgently at the phenomenon as an insignificant part of a vigorously, evolving, capitalist society. With socialism the morality of an earlier era is also considered passe. More dangerously, just as passe is talk of human rights—evident from the growing demonization of civil rights activists as anti-national and supporters of terrorists and so on. In Mumbai, long considered the country’s most developed city, we have witnessed the blatant practice of killing people without trial in ‘encounters’for well over a decade with media articles celebrating police officers responsible in a manner reminiscent of hunters in the past. So how helpless are we really when it comes to the political process?

In J.M. Coetzee’s Booker prize winning novel Disgrace, a middle-aged white teacher in a Cape Town university has an affair with a young student. When discovered he refuses to repent preferring instead to resign and face public censure. In a parallel development the man’s daughter who lives alone on her isolated farm, is raped and her house burgled by black hoodlums. She refuses to move or consider obvious measures for ensuring her safety, aware that in the fast evolving political environment in which she has made her home, a white, single woman landowner will be a constant target. She chooses instead to hand over her title deeds to her former black employee and to be known as his third wife in return for his protection against future attacks. To her bewildered father she says : ‘Yes I agree it is humiliating. But perhaps that is a good point to start from again. Perhaps that is what I must learn to accept.’

Is that what we have come to? To accept a certain degree of disgrace in our public life? Do we feel it is better to live with an amount of dross in our system than to bring about a more fundamental change? And should we then expect more humanity in our politics? If we do then perhaps a good way to begin is by reinstating a respect for the law not just outside of but within ourselves.