The Hindu : Liberal delusion

Online edition of India's National Newspaper
Saturday, May 03, 2003

Opinion

Opinion - News Analysis

Liberal delusion

By Krishna Kumar

The elementary school near my house is among the many institutions that have been injured by the victorious invasion of Iraq.

In a few months, when the civics teacher will talk about the status and role of the U.N., children will know, though they may not say it, that the teacher is talking nonsense. The larger edifice of knowledge, which insisted that colonialism was history, has fallen. Now that the strong have crushed and humiliated the weak, no teacher can sustain the moral basis of education. Two of the most literate nations of the world have flaunted their preference for brute force. Who will now believe that words matter, or that knowledge gives humility?

And now, the marauders have already re-dressed for Act II, in which milk powder will replace cluster bombs. Contracts will procedurally flow to companies associated with the office-holders who ordered the destruction.

The televised images of the Iraqis jumping in glee and thanking Mr. Bush remind us of the continuity of the colonial project. The cultural agenda of all such projects was to degrade the invaded by representing them as people without dignity or fibre. By sinking into anarchy and looting, the native prove the invaders' claim that they are morally superior guys whose crimes don't count. Never mind the horrors heaped on the natives.

Also, forget that Saddam Hussain was once favoured and strengthened by the Americans. In the final round, the invaders must serve as models; the defeated must show gratitude, and acknowledge their backwardness too. The supreme irony of any colonial drama puts the plunderers in a civilising role, while inheritors of a great civilisation start looting property and their own heritage.

Doubtless, the looted artefacts will emerge soon enough in auction halls of the art world.

As a good citizen of the Commonwealth, I have long sustained the belief that the BBC is different from the VOA and Radio Russia. One tuned to them for official national views, but the BBC symbolised liberal fairness, with room for self-doubt. Within hours of the invasion, that room was bombed out of existence. The BBC radio took a week to recognise that its coverage sounded indecently partisan. By then it was too late to repair the damage. On TV, respectable newsreaders looked visibly embarrassed over the lack of quality and balance. Reports received from Baghdad and Basra (they called it Baazra, in Cawnpore style) were duly prefaced by the remark that the correspondents' movement was restricted and the report was monitored by Iraqi authorities. That every report was framed by the assumed desirability of the invasion was not discussed.

There were moments when I wished Paul Scott were alive to update his Raj Quartet. One morning, the embedded reporters were convinced that they had smelt an uprising in Basra. They looked for it for hours, apparently propelled by the Prime Minister's mention of it in the Commons. As an Indian listener, I had to prepare myself rather quickly to appreciate that at last the distinction between the BBC and the AIR was crumbling. An Iraqi Shia who lives in England talked about people's sufferings under Saddam. The moment he said that the Iraqis don't trust the Americans because they don't keep promises, the interview was cut. A French Member of Parliament who praised Iraqi resistance was told that he sounded happy. Topics like people's misery, the impact of the bombardment on the ecology and the macabre business of the destroyers becoming post-war builders were taboo.

My innocence stemmed from the premise that since the British had experienced Gandhi, they would hesitate to enter a predictable cycle of violence. Several years ago, a Japanese professor had asked me whether India had taught anything to the British during our long contact. The only thing I could think of was Gandhi, but I wasn't sure. Colonialism comprised the art of exploiting without arousing long-term enmity or desire for revenge. All colonial powers practised this art, but the British had the added advantage of refining it against an adversary like Gandhi whose politics included pedagogy for the oppressor.

British school children, who took part in large numbers in the recent anti-war demonstrations, have apparently imbibed Gandhi's gift of non-violent fight without being taught about him in any detail. Now that Britain has earned the just wrath of a wounded people, they will perhaps have a practical reason to reflect on Gandhi more deeply.

When asked about Western civilisation, Gandhi had said it would be a nice idea. He obviously believed that it was worth attempting. For a start, the lone fig tree in my backyard can serve as a resource. Its fruit is eaten up by parrots, but the leaves are useful. During the invasion of Iraq, tiny leaf-buds took advantage of Delhi's warm spring to emerge in large numbers. They are much too transparent and small to be of much use for Bush, Blair and their colleagues.

These worthies must wait till I can supply big, strong and opaque ones. But the ones I have for now will do for the BBC. Its show is now back from the killing fields to the studio in Bush House. Bombed into freedom, the people of Iraq have joined the millions who believe the BBC to be fair. For their sake, the BBC must undertake its own post-war reconstruction, in order to have a face left to lose in the next round of embedded reporting.

(The writer is Professor at the Central Institute of Education, Delhi University.)

Printer friendly page
Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Opinion

Stories in this Section

A heartening course

Humane executions

Museum, memory and mankind

Empower the panel

Liberal delusion

May Day with a difference