All fury, no fire

It is not too late to look at what we have been forced to see in the mirror during election in Mumbai on April 30 and have the courage to admit that we let ourselves down. We have to get out of our narrow confines and understand that we are part of the problems we face, writes Rahul Bose.

At 7.05 am on April 30, a minute before I cast my vote at one of the upmarket polling stations in the country, a table collapsed and two electronic voting machines (EVM) crashed onto the floor. I should have taken the incident as a prophetic sign of things to come. However, the point I am making here is not about crumbling tables carrying hi-tech EVMs; it’s about being reminded that change is not a mantra that people will buy just because the intelligentsia says it’s time. But somehow it’s easier to accept tired, rusty desks still being used to hold the most important piece of equipment in a democracy, than it is to accept a rerun of the familiar: the below-average election turnout in Bombay and above-average apathy of its citizens.

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I am still stunned by the low-voter turnout. This time there was every reason to expect heavy polling, at least every indicator pointed towards that. On the one hand, the 26/11 attack had confirmed our loss of faith in the Bombay/Maharashtra’s political class; on the other, you had the most sustained media and non-government organisation-backed campaigns to get people out to vote. The only question seemed to be this: 60 or 65 per cent? Only 72 hours ago, the ‘Jaago Re’ campaign, meet your candidates meetings (about 15 of them, probably a first for any city in post-independent India) and front page editorials of English papers exhorted the citizens of this city to vote. So, why didn’t the people go out in droves and vote?

We can endlessly argue/theorise about why this low-turnout happened: a long weekend, vacations or the heat. But we’ve had all of these before; what we have not had is a 26/11-type attack. What greater call to action does a Bombayite need? Now the writing on the wall, at best, says: we care, but not enough. We care, but have lost faith in our ability to change things, that we are happy to abrogate our power as citizens of the country. At worst, it says we don’t really care.

Call me an idealist but I do not believe in the second scenario. I believe the former is closer to the truth. Living in this city has convinced us that it’s best to swallow our anger and try and perfect our narrow lives rather than lift our heads out of the morass and participate in societal change.

So how do we convince Bombayites that if they are willing to walk together, things can be changed? For a moment, on December 3, 2008, we all thought that ten terrorists had done the hard work of awakening a cynical populace. But the sad truth is this: all they seem to have done is goad us to come out one evening. There was a lot of anger on that day but precious little happened after that. Looking at the turnout of 18 to 25-year-olds at the Gateway of India, excited me.

Here was a chance to harness a spontaneous outrage and guide it into constructive action. Not anything daunting or complex, just action which would translate into voting for a candidate who would give them the best chance of building a country they would be proud to live in. Since 26/11, I have interacted with at least a couple of thousand youngsters in Bombay and another 5,000-odd in other cities. Everywhere I heard the same questions, felt the same anger. And everywhere I showed them how politics was a part of their daily lives: if rock shows had to finish by 10 pm, it was politics; if celebrating Valentine’s Day was fraught with danger, it was politics; if girls were being beaten in pubs, it was politics. So, I told them, the only way to combat this was to fight for your politics, fight for what you believe the world should stand for.

And then, April 30. It seems talk more and do less is a genetic condition with us. I got just one hint of the disappointment to come when during a panel discussion on April 29, I heard a young election worker from an NGO speak frankly and wearily about how he was sure that the attitude of youngsters was not going to change.

But it’s not just about the youth, it’s about all of us. I believed, as I still do, that 26/11 was a godsend opportunity for us to reclaim the political culture this country once fleetingly had, but has now lost. Similarly, I believe these elections have given us yet another wake-up call. It is not too late to look at what we have been forced to see in the mirror of April 30 and have the courage to admit that we let ourselves down. We have to get out of our narrow confines and understand that we are part of the problems we face. And there is only one way we can chase those demons away: stand up and fight together. It’s not too late; it’s never too late. Sadly, we know that only too well.

Rahul Bose is a social activist and an actor

Barkha Dutt’s column ‘Third Eye’ will be back next week