Quality of Life: India vs. China by Amartya Sen

The steadily rising rate of economic growth in India has recently been around 8 percent per year (it is expected to be 9 percent this year), and there is much speculation about whether and when India may catch up with and surpass China’s over 10 percent growth rate. Despite the evident excitement that this subject seems to cause in India and abroad, it is surely rather silly to be obsessed about India’s overtaking China in the rate of growth of GNP, while not comparing India with China in other respects, like education, basic health, or life expectancy. Economic growth can, of course, be enormously helpful in advancing living standards and in battling poverty. But there is little cause for taking the growth of GNP to be an end in itself, rather than seeing it as an important means for achieving things we value.

sen_1-051211.jpgDinodia/Stock Connection/Aurora Photos

Girls in a classroom in the Indian model village of Ralegan Siddhi, northeast of Pune, Maharashtra, 2006

It could, however, be asked why this distinction should make much difference, since economic growth does enhance our ability to improve living standards. The central point to appreciate here is that while economic growth is important for enhancing living conditions, its reach and impact depend greatly on what we do with the increased income. The relation between economic growth and the advancement of living standards depends on many factors, including economic and social inequality and, no less importantly, on what the government does with the public revenue that is generated by economic growth.

Some statistics about China and India, drawn mainly from the World Bank and the United Nations, are relevant here. Life expectancy at birth in China is 73.5 years; in India it is 64.4 years. The infant mortality rate is fifty per thousand in India, compared with just seventeen in China; the mortality rate for children under five is sixty-six per thousand for Indians and nineteen for the Chinese; and the maternal mortality rate is 230 per 100,000 live births in India and thirty-eight in China. The mean years of schooling in India were estimated to be 4.4 years, compared with 7.5 years in China. China’s adult literacy rate is 94 percent, compared with India’s 74 percent according to the preliminary tables of the 2011 census.

As a result of India’s effort to improve the schooling of girls, its literacy rate for women between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four has clearly risen; but that rate is still not much above 80 percent, whereas in China it is 99 percent. One of the serious failures of India is that a very substantial proportion of Indian children are, to varying degrees, undernourished (depending on the criteria used, the proportion can come close to half of all children), compared with a very small proportion in China. Only 66 percent of Indian children are immunized with triple vaccine (diphtheria/pertussis/tetanus), as opposed to 97 percent in China.

Comparing India with China according to such standards can be more useful for policy discussions in India than confining the comparison to GNP growth rates only. Those who are fearful that India’s growth performance would suffer if it paid more attention to “social objectives” such as education and health care should seriously consider that notwithstanding these “social” activities and achievements, China’s rate of GNP growth is still clearly higher than India’s.

2.

Higher GNP has certainly helped China to reduce various indicators of poverty and deprivation, and to expand different features of the quality of life. There is every reason to want to encourage sustainable economic growth in India in order to improve living standards today and in the future (including taking care of the environment in which we live). Sustainable economic growth is a very good thing in a way that “growth mania” is not.

GNP per capita is, however, not invariably a good predictor of valuable features of our lives, for those features depend also on other things that we do—or fail to do. Compare India with Bangladesh. In income, India has a huge lead over Bangladesh, with a GNP per capita of $1,170, compared with $590 in Bangladesh, in comparable units of purchasing power. This difference has expanded rapidly because of India’s faster rate of recent economic growth, and that, of course, is a point in India’s favor. India’s substantially higher rank than Bangladesh in the UN Human Development Index (HDI) is largely due to this particular achievement. But we must ask how well India’s income advantage is reflected in other things that also matter. I fear the answer is: not well at all.

Life expectancy in Bangladesh is 66.9 years compared with India’s 64.4. The proportion of underweight children in Bangladesh (41.3 percent) is lower than in India (43.5), and its fertility rate (2.3) is also lower than India’s (2.7). Mean years of schooling amount to 4.8 years in Bangladesh compared with India’s 4.4 years. While India is ahead of Bangladesh in the male literacy rate for the age group between fifteen and twenty-four, the female rate in Bangladesh is higher than in India. Interestingly, the female literacy rate among young Bangladeshis is actually higher than the male rate, whereas young women still have substantially lower rates than young males in India. There is much evidence to suggest that Bangladesh’s current progress has a great deal to do with the role that liberated Bangladeshi women are beginning to play in the country.

What about health? The mortality rate of children under five is sixty-six per thousand in India compared with fifty-two in Bangladesh. In infant mortality, Bangladesh has a similar advantage: it is fifty per thousand in India and forty-one in Bangladesh. While 94 percent of Bangladeshi children are immunized with DPT vaccine, only 66 percent of Indian children are. In each of these respects, Bangladesh does better than India, despite having only half of India’s per capita income.

Of course, Bangladesh’s living conditions will benefit greatly from higher economic growth, particularly if the country uses it as a means of doing good things, rather than treating economic growth and high per capita income as ends in themselves. It is to the huge credit of Bangladesh that despite the adversity of low income it has been able to do so much so quickly; the imaginative activism of Bangladeshi NGOs (such as the Grameen Bank, the pioneering microcredit institution, and BRAC, a large-scale initiative aimed at removing poverty) as well as the committed public policies of the government have both contributed to the results. But higher income, including larger public resources, will obviously enhance Bangladesh’s ability to achieve better lives for its people.

3.

One of the positive things about economic growth is that it generates public resources that the government can devote to its priorities. In fact, public resources very often grow faster than the GNP. The gross tax revenue, for example, of the government of India (corrected for price rise) is now more than four times what it was just twenty years ago, in 1990–1991. This is a substantially bigger jump than the price-corrected GNP.

Expenditure on what is somewhat misleadingly called the “social sector”—health, education, nutrition, etc.—has certainly gone up in India. And yet India is still well behind China in many of these fields. For example, government expenditure on health care in China is nearly five times that in India. China does, of course, have a larger population and a higher per capita income than India, but even in relative terms, while the Chinese government spends nearly 2 percent of GDP (1.9 percent) on health care, the proportion is only a little above one percent (1.1 percent) in India.

One result of the relatively low allocation of funds to public health care in India is that large numbers of poor people across the country rely on private doctors, many of whom have little medical training. Since health is also a typical example of “asymmetric information,” in which the patients may know very little about what the doctors (or “supposed doctors”) are giving them, even the possibility of fraud and deceit is very large. In a study conducted by the Pratichi Trust—a public interest trust I set up in 1999—we found cases in which the ignorance of poor patients about their condition was exploited so as to make them pay for treatment they didn’t get. This is the result not only of shameful exploitation, but ultimately of the sheer unavailability of public health care in many parts of India. The benefit that we can expect to get from economic growth depends very much on how the public revenue generated by economic growth is expended.

4.

When we consider the impact of economic growth on people’s lives, comparisons favor China over India. However, there are many fields in which a comparison between China and India is not related to economic growth in any obvious way. Most Indians are strongly appreciative of the democratic structure of the country, including its many political parties, systematic free elections, uncensored media, free speech, and the independent standing of the judiciary, among other characteristics of a lively democracy. Those Indians who are critical of serious flaws in these arrangements (and I am certainly one of them) can also take account of what India has already achieved in sustaining democracy, in contrast to many other countries, including China.

Not only is access to the Internet and world opinion uncensored and unrestricted in India, a multitude of media present widely different points of view, often very critical of the government in office. India has a larger circulation of newspapers each day than any other country in the world. And the newspapers reflect contrasting political perspectives. Economic growth has helped—and this has certainly been a substantial gain—to expand the availability of radios and televisions across the country, including in rural areas, which very often are shared among many users. There are at least 360 independent television stations (and many are being established right now, judging from the licenses already issued) and their broadcasts reflect a remarkable variety of points of view. More than two hundred of these TV stations concentrate substantially or mainly on news, many of them around the clock. There is a sharp contrast here with the monolithic system of newscasting permitted by the state in China, with little variation of political perspectives on different channels.

Freedom of expression has its own value as a potentially important instrument for democratic politics, but also as something that people enjoy and treasure. Even the poorest parts of the population want to participate in social and political life, and in India they can do so. There is a contrast as well in the use of trial and punishment, including capital punishment. China often executes more people in a week than India has executed since independence in 1947. If our focus is on a comprehensive comparison of the quality of life in India and China, we have to look well beyond the traditional social indicators, and many of these comparisons are not to China’s advantage.

Could it be that India’s democratic system is somehow a barrier to using the benefits of economic growth in order to enhance health, education, and other social conditions? Clearly not, as I shall presently discuss. It is worth recalling that when India had a very low rate of economic growth, as was the case until the 1980s, a common argument was that democracy was hostile to fast economic growth. It was hard to convince those opposed to democracy that fast economic growth depends on an economic climate congenial to development rather than on fierce political control, and that a political system that protects democratic rights need not impede economic growth. That debate has now ended, not least because of the high economic growth rates of democratic India. We can now ask: How should we assess the alleged conflict between democracy and the use of the fruits of economic growth for social advancement?

5.

What a democratic system achieves depends greatly on which social conditions become political issues. Some conditions become politically important issues quickly, such as the calamity of a famine (thus famines tend not to occur at all when there is a functioning democracy), while other problems—less spectacular and less immediate—provide a much harder challenge. It is much more difficult to use democratic politics to remedy undernourishment that is not extreme, or persistent gender inequality, or the absence of regular medical care for all. Success or failure here depends on the range and vigor of democratic practice.1 In recent years Indian democracy has made considerable progress in dealing with some of these conditions, such as gender inequality, lack of schools, and widespread undernourishment. Public protests, court decisions, and the use of the recently passed “Right to Information” Act have had telling effects. But India still has a long way to go in remedying these conditions.

In China, by contrast, the process of decision-making depends largely on decisions made by the top Party leaders, with relatively little democratic pressure from below. The Chinese leaders, despite their skepticism about the values of multiparty democracy and personal and political liberty, are strongly committed to eliminating poverty, undernourishment, illiteracy, and lack of health care; and this has greatly helped in China’s advancement. There is, however, a serious fragility in any authoritarian system of governance, since there is little recourse or remedy when the government leaders alter their goals or suppress their failures.

The reality of that danger revealed itself in a catastrophic form in the Chinese famine of 1959–1962, which killed more than 30 million people, when there was no public pressure against the regime’s policies, as would have arisen in a functioning democracy. Mistakes in policy continued for three years while tens of millions died. To take another example, the economic reforms of 1979 greatly improved the working and efficiency of Chinese agriculture and industry; but the Chinese government also eliminated, at the same time, the entitlement of all to public medical care (which was often administered through the communes). Most people were then required to buy their own health insurance, drastically reducing the proportion of the population with guaranteed health care.

In a functioning democracy an established right to social assistance could not have been so easily—and so swiftly—dropped. The change sharply reduced the progress of longevity in China. Its large lead over India in life expectancy dwindled during the following two decades—falling from a fourteen-year lead to one of just seven years.

The Chinese authorities, however, eventually realized what had been lost, and from 2004 they rapidly started reintroducing the right to medical care. China now has a considerably higher proportion of people with guaranteed health care than does India. The gap in life expectancy in China’s favor has been rising again, and it is now around nine years; and the degree of coverage is clearly central to the difference.2 Whether India’s democratic political system can effectively remedy neglected public services such as health care is one of the most urgent questions facing the country.3

6.

For a minority of the Indian population—but still very large in actual numbers—economic growth alone has been very advantageous, since they are already comparatively privileged and need no social assistance to benefit from economic growth. The limited prosperity of recent years has helped to support a remarkable variety of lifestyles as well as globally acclaimed developments of Indian literature, music, cinema, theater, painting, and the culinary arts, among other cultural activities.

Yet an exaggerated concentration on the lives of the relatively prosperous, exacerbated by the Indian media, gives an unrealistically rosy picture of the lives of Indians in general. Since the fortunate group includes not only business leaders and the professional classes but also many of the country’s intellectuals, the story of unusual national advancement is widely and persistently heard. More worryingly, relatively privileged Indians can easily fall for the temptation to focus just on economic growth as a grand social benefactor for all.

Some critics of the huge social inequalities in India find something callous and uncouth in the self-centered lives and inward-looking preoccupations of a relatively prosperous minority. My primary concern, however, is that the illusions generated by those distorted perceptions of prosperity may prevent India from bringing social deprivations into political focus, which is essential for achieving what needs to be done for Indians at large through its democratic system. A fuller understanding of the real conditions of the mass of neglected Indians and what can be done to improve their lives through public policy should be a central issue in the politics of India.

This is exactly where the exclusive concentration on the rate of GNP growth has the most damaging effect. Economic growth can make a very large contribution to improving people’s lives; but single-minded emphasis on growth has limitations that need to be clearly understood.

  1. 1I have discussed this issue more fully in ” How Is India Doing? ,” The New York Review , December 16, 1982; in (jointly with Jean Drèze) Hunger and Public Action (Clarendon Press/Oxford University Press, 1989); and in Development as Freedom (Knopf, 1999). 
  2. 2I discuss this in “The Art of Medicine: Learning from Others,” The Lancet , January 15, 2011. 
  3. 3I am grateful to Lincoln Chen, Jean Drèze, and A.K. Shiva Kumar for helpful discussion of this and related issues. 

Indian Nationalism, Pluralism and Sri Aurobindo by Richard Carlson

Rammohan Roy

Indian Nationalism, Pluralism and Sri Aurobindo

by

Richard Carlson

p2p foundation

Sri Aurobindo is a complex figure. In India he is often remembered as both a maha-guru and a charged symbol of its independence movement. In the cultural memory of some Hindu ultranationalist his writings and speeches are often deployed as an emotional declarations of resentment toward the legacy of occupation and militancy toward the partition of the subcontinent into a Hindu and Islamic State. A close reading however, of how he is portrayed in ultranationalist rhetoric reveals that Aurobindo’s words are often historically de-contextualized, his sentences cut up into snippets to form slogans of nationalism that invite quite the opposite of the intended meaning. These sectarian readings of Aurobindo collapse his cosmopolitan vision of a pluralist India into a chauvinist ideology that suit the narrow communal interest of political Hindu Nationalism. This introductory article, as do those that follow presents Indian Nationalism through the biography and works of Sri Aurobindo.

….

Until the first years of the twentieth century –when it became distinctly political- Indian Nationalism had taken the form of a cultural and religious movement. The movement for Indian Nationalism traces its genealogy to the early 19th century and the founding figure of the Bengal Renaissance, Raja Rammohan Roy (1775-1833).

The Bengal Renaissance was an intellectual awakening that rivaled its European counterpart in marking the transition from feudalism to modernity in Bengal and other parts of India. The Bengal Renaissance was a cosmopolitan movement that was not only a cross-cultural hybrid but an epistemic one as well. The movement grafted the ideology of the European Enlightenment, through the universal application of reason and social humanist values on to a nascent Hindu reform movement by the Brahmo Samaj and similar organizations.

As annunciated by its founder Rammohan Roy in 1828 the mission of the Brahmo Samaj was to preach the true Vedanta of India whose teachings were wide enough to embrace all faiths within an inclusive universal religion while simultaneously undermining the foundationalist claims of any final scriptural authority as the privileged bearer of truth.

If Rammohan Roy inhabited a Hinduism that was cosmopolitan, he was also a Unitarian who co-founded the Calcutta Unitarian Society. His work would influence another famous Unitarian, Ralph Waldo Emerson who read his translation of the Upanishads. Emerson’s vision of Transcendentalism in its American context come from sources that parallel those that inspired Rammohan Roy. Roy sowed the dynamism intrinsic to the idea of the Enlightenment into the soil of ancient Eastern, the cosmopolitan rhizomes that emerged and spread out across cultures, became a formative force in the movement towards Indian nationalism. It is therefore, not surprising that almost a century after Roy and Emerson that Mohandas K. Gandhi would find inspiration in his struggle for national independence in the writings of the Henry David Thoreau, a Transcendentalist, who was inspired by the Vedanta of ancient India in the translations and commentaries he read by Roy and others.

While holding fast to the principles of the Enlightenment that were founded on the omniscience of reason the Bengal Renaissance interrogated existing Hindu orthodoxy. In doing this it also widened the appeal of Hinduism across the sub-continent by eschewing the many repressive practices it had historically used to discipline large portions of the population especially, through the caste system and by its treatment of women.

The Bengal Renaissance found expression throughout the 19th century, in the activities of intellectuals, social reformers, journalists, writers, poets, artists and scientists. Even after the insurrection against the British in the Revolt of 1857 the movement continued to flourish through a creative explosion of literature notably found in the work of Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, who wrote novels, essays, poems and commentaries. It was Chatterjee who wrote the poem Bande Mataram that was to become the anthem of the independence struggle. The poem personified (Mother) India as the Hindu goddess Durga. Chatterjee believed that a reawakened India could achieve status as a world cultural power.

For all its creativity however, the Bengal Renaissance was to remain confined mostly to upper caste and wealthier Hindus, some of whom even considered themselves atheists. This socio/economic fact however, would unfortunately later undermine their rhetoric in advocating a unified Bengal and Indian subcontinent.

In the 1870 and 1880’s cultural nationalism coupled with Hindu reformist revivalism in movements like the Arya Samaj, founded by Swami Dyananda, became the source of inspiration for many Indian writers, activist and reformers. Although it was as reform minded in its opposition to the caste system and the oppression of women as the Brahmo Samaj the Arya Samaj believed in the authority on the “divinely inspired” Vedas while the Brahmo Samaj refused any allegiance to one ultimate scriptural authority.

In the 1890s Swami Vivekananda would emerge to champion a vision of a pluralistic Hinduism with India as its homeland. Although the belief in India as the sacred home of Hinduism is now thought by some to be a reactionary idea, Vivekananda’s beliefs in Indian Nationalism can hardly be called nationalist in a xenophobic sense. He had no difficulties in reconciling the many diverse cultures of India within a cosmopolitan world view. He was perhaps the first key figure to introduce the Vedanta and Yoga to the West, by personally bringing its universal message abroad in successful trips to England and America, where he famously addressed the World Parliament of Religions in 1893.

The Indian nationalist movement became distinctly political at the turn of the 20th century when the British attempted to partition Bengal. Although it was officially announced as an administrative partition, that would facilitate better governance, the partition had the impact of dividing Bengal along geographical lines (East/West) and thereby along religious lines (Hindu/Muslim) This was a political move consistent with the divide and conquer strategy of Colonial Empire. The relationship between the British and the Indian Nationalist movement now became one of a Colonial-National interchange, as a newly emerging independent nation prepared to articulate its founding discourse.

In response to the British action in Bengal several nationalist leaders emerged such as Bal Gangadhar Tilak and Bipin Chandra Pal to help forge a popular resistance to the colonialist enterprise by calling for complete independence from England. One of the leaders of the independence movement was Aurobindo Ghose (Sri Aurobindo). Sri Aurobindo based his demand for independence on the inherent right of a nation for self-determination and the inherent evil of colonialism that subjugated indigenous peoples to foreign occupation.

At a young age Sri Aurobindo had been sent to England by his Anglophile father to be raised and educated. He graduated from Cambridge where he was educated in the Classics. He could read and write in multiple European and Indian languages. At Cambridge he won prizes for Greek and Latin poetry. Culturally Auronbindo was a cosmopolitan figure, philosophically he had certain affinities with Nietzsche, Bergson, Tagore.

When he returned to India rather than becoming a privileged member of the Crown’s Indian Civil Service (ICS) he choose to rediscovered his Indian heritage by immersing himself in its indigenous traditions that he found in the Vedanta and the practice of Yoga. His will to cultural and self-discovery transformed him into both a revolutionary and a yogi. It did not take long to find himself on trail for his life as the British tried him on charges of sedition.

Although due to his revolutionary activities the British considered him to be an extremist in fact, Auorbindo advocated a secular democracy for a free India in which Hindus, Muslims and others would be given equal status as the citizens of a modern unified nation. But even though his political ideas were inspired by European political theory Aurobindo’s writings and speeches also barrowed heavily from the symbols and sources of Hinduism. In one famous speech he would describe the essence of the culture of the sub-continent and its newly emerging nation to be the “sanatan dharma”, The “eternal law” that expresses the essence of ones religious being. Aurobindo projected this eternal law on to the nation. The “sanatan dharma” however, is also used to describe the essence of Hinduism. Therefore, whether one believes in a pluralist or a sectarian form of Hinduism makes all the difference in interpreting the term. Today Hindu Nationalist often invoke the “sanatan dharma” in problematic ways for a nations with a secular constitution.

Due to such misappropriation of language and the confusion of cultural memory with critical history, many contemporary political theorist both on the Right and the Left often historically de-contextualize both Vivekananda and Sri Aurobindo to conflate their multi-dimensional view of a national polity with the reductive contemporary phenomena of Hindu Nationalism, often called “Hindutva” (Hinduness).

The contemporary movement of Hindu Nationalism however, began long after Vivekananda had died and Aurobindo had retired from politics. A rough date for the advent of the current Hindu Nationalist movement perhaps maybe around 1925 when K.B. Hedgewar founded the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (R.S.S); a militant ultranationalist movement. Hedgewar wished to protect India from further foreign subjugation by uniting Hindus on a common platform by instilling discipline and national character. Hedgewar had been influenced by the concept of Hindutva in the writing of Vināyak Dāmodar Savarkar; who conflated Hinduism with Indian identity

After Hedgewar the leadership of the R.S.S was passed on to Madhav Sadashiv Golwalkar, whose view of Hinduism while open to absorbing Jainism and Buddhism, was overtly hostile to Christianity, Islam. Under Golwalkar R.S.S political activities increased until the movement was briefly outlawed when members of the R.S.S were convicted of the assassination of Gandhi. Known for his extremist view, in his book, “We, Our Nationhood Defined” (1939), Golwalkar praised Adolph Hitler’s ethic of ethnic cleansing by writing:

“Germany has also shown how well nigh impossible it is for Races and cultures, having differences going to the root, to be assimilated into one united whole, a good lesson for us in Hindusthan to learn and profit by.”

as well as denouncing Muslims as citizens of India:

“Ever since that evil day, when Moslems first landed in Hindustan, right up to the present moment, the Hindu Nation has been gallantly fighting on to take on these despoilers. The Race Spirit has been awakening.”

But the founding fathers of current Hindu Nationalism had little influence on the Indian Independence Movement, most of whose leaders -unlike Hedgewar and Golwalker- understood Hinduism as an inclusive faith that would thrive within the secular democracy they sought to create. This has not however, stopped the present day successor ideologues of Hindu Nationalists from attempting to incorporate some of the founders of India’s cultural and political independence movement into their reactionary cause.

The appropriation of political figures from the early independence movement such as Vivekananda and Aurobindo, by contemporary Hindu Nationalists in an effort to further their exclusionist ends, is done in much the same cynical fashion as the attempt by contemporary American Tea Party politicians to appropriate the legacies of America’s founders in claiming to known the “original intentions” of the framers of the constitution: Jefferson, Franklin, Paine et al. in trying to legitimize their demands for libertarian economics and xenophobic politics.

In the case of Vivekananda and Aurobindo both held complex social understandings of nationalism that in many ways was similar to their European contemporaries, who were sympathetic to the progressive social movements of the post-Romantic era, such as Thomas Carlyle, and Oscar Wilde. Indeed Aurobindo’s brother was friends with Wilde.

For both Vivekananda and Aurobindo, as with the earlier Bengal Renaissance figures, Hinduism was synonymous with a universal religion that was characterized by its radical inclusivity. The universal religion of Vedanta that they heralded was a system of beliefs that could include Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhist and members of other faiths including non-believers. It was a religion whose social values were coextensive in its aims with the religion of humanity proclaimed by the champions of the secular European Enlightenment.

Having become confident that the independence struggle would succeed Sri Aurobindo gradually withdrew from the arena of nationalist politics and began to concentrate more on his spiritual practice of integral yoga. In his years after politics he devoted himself to the spiritual practices of integral yoga and rejected narrow sectarian identification with religious forms such as traditional Hindu practices. His social-political text advocated a form of nationalism based on a secular social democracy that could evolve toward Utopian forms of spiritual anarchy. While unique in its invocation of Vedantic practices of self-knowledge, his political views are of a social progressive who envisions a future that -while cosmic in scope- is entirely consistent with other European socio-utopian discourse of the era.

While the spirit of Sri Aurobindo’s integral discourse can be traced back to the syncretistic doctrines and cosmopolitanism of the Bengal Renaissance, the cultural and political forms of engagement that evolved from the Bengal Renaissance failed to cast a net wide enough to serve as a foundation for a unified India. Although the Bengal Renaissance embraced a cultural ethos of universal human rights when it evolved into a political resistance movement it was not able to sustain a call for a single nation on the subcontinent. Its social message could not fully infiltrate into the economic structures of lower castes to fully gain their support and so was looked upon with suspicion by Marxist. Most importantly, it could not convince Muslims that its promises of equal status under one secular nation would suit their needs and demands. The fact that the discourse that followed the Bengal Renaissance resonated primarily with wealthy and upper middle class Hindus of certain upper castes ultimately undermined its utopian urge and influence to construct a unified nation and universal religion. However, the view of those who can be included as major figures in Bengal Renaissance from Rammohan Roy to Sri Aurobindo advocated a pluralistic nationalism one that is far different than the communal nationalism espoused by the Hindu right political parties of today’s India.

The dynamics of Indian Nationalism, Communalism and Orientalism are further elucidated in three excellent articles that follow which explore the revolutionary activities and socio-spiritual writings of Sri Aurobindo.
The article by Marcel Kvassay entitled “Heehs, on Sri Aurobindo and Indian Communalism” is a review of several books by the author Peter Heehs. Heehs is certainly the foremost biographer of Sri Aurobindo yet, he has recently come under attack through the hate speech and legal actions of Hindu fundamentalist in response to his recent scholarly biography: The Lives of Sri Aurobindo.

The books reviewed are:

(1998). Nationalism, Terrorism, Communalism. Delhi: Oxford University Press.

(2005). Nationalism, Religion, and Beyond. Delhi: Permanent Black.

(2008). The Lives of Sri Aurobindo. New York: Columbia University Press.
The next article by Peter Heehs “Shades of Orientalism”, introduces Orientailsm into the study of Indian Nationalism and Sri Aurobindo. The abstract reads:

“Edward Said attempts to show that all European discourse about the Orient is the same, and all European scholars of the Orient complicit in the aims of European imperialism. There may be “manifest” differences in discourse, but the underlying “latent” orientalism is “more or less constant.” This does not do justice to the marked differences in approach, attitude, presentation and conclusions found in the works of various orientalists. I distinguish six different styles of colonial and postcolonial discourse about India (heuristic categories, not essential types), and note the existence of numerous precolonial discourses. The thought of the early-twentieth-century writer Sri Aurobindo took form in a colonial framework and has been used in various ways by postcolonial writers. An anti-British nationalist, he was by no means complicit in British imperialism. Neither can it be said, as some Saidians do, that the nationalist style of orientalism was just an imitative indigenous reversal of European discourse, using terms like “Hinduism” that had been invented by Europeans. Five problems that Aurobindo dealt with are still of interest to historians: the significance of the Vedas, the date of the vedic texts, the Aryan invasion theory, the Aryan-Dravidian distinction and the idea that spirituality is the essence of India. His views on these topics have been criticized by Leftist and Saidian orientalists, and appropriated by reactionary “Hindutva” writers. Such critics concentrate on that portion of Aurobindo’s work that stands in opposition to or supports their own views. A more balanced approach to the nationalist orientalism of Aurobindo and others would take account of their religious and political assumptions, but view their project as an attempt to create an alternative language of discourse. Although in need of criticism in the light of modern scholarship, their work offers a way to recognize cultural particularity while keeping the channels of intercultural dialogue open.”
The article by Debashish Banerji entitled “Sri Aurbindo, India and Ideological Discourse” explores both inclusive and exclusionist Hinduism through the creation of what Banerji calls four forms of Orientalism: Enlightenment Positivism, Positivist Racism, Romantic and Dialogic that are briefly summarized here:

1) Positivism in this Enlightenment sense does not make any distinction between human beings, colonizer or colonized. It moves towards the equalization of the field. It is burdened by what it calls the ”white-man’s burden”.

2) Positivist Racism also starts with the precept that Reason is the primary defining attribute of human beings. In this sense, it is also definitional in its approach to Humanity, but it construes non-White people, non Western people, as racially different and inferior. Non-Western people – we find here the invention of “the west” as a self-identifying civilizational essence tied to race and differentiated from “the east” or “the Orient”-  just don’t have that definitional property of Reason to the degree required to be given entry into the club of Humanity. That is, the brown, black, red and yellow peoples of the world are “not quite/not white,” in Homi Bhabha’s celebrated description of the phenomenon.

3) Along with these, almost as their necessary inverse, come two other discourses. They constitute the field of Orientalism. The first of these could be called Romantic Orientalism. This discourse starts by acknowledging the “Enlightened West” to be defined by Materialism, and then projects its Other, the domain of Romanticism and Spritituality onto the ”the Orient,” ie. the colonized. The colonized is that Other because s/he fills the lack of Euro-America, its lost spirituality, rejected because not a part of its definition of the Human. Thus the fascination of the Other as the romantic, exotic, primitive, spiritual native  (in our case, Indian) characterizes Orientalism. But Orientalism is also conflicted. Just as the discourse of Positivism expresses itself as a binary, Orientalism also carries an internal conflict which divides it into two discourses. One of them is the mainstream Orientialist discourse, that so well brought out by Edward Said, which characterizes the Oriental or “non-Western” people as those who will remain and are meant to remain creatures of imagination and spirituality, never capable of political self-determination or rational epistemology.

4) The fourth discourse is where some promise starts emerging. This is a variant of Romantic Orientalism, what may be termed Dialogic Orientalism. This is constituted by the awareness among those within the West who perceive the origin of the Other within their own culture, who believe that spirituality is part of the definition of the Human, which has been suppressed and neglected in the development of the progressive “logocentric” discourse of the Enlightenment. This anthropological deformation needs to be corrected. Engagement in dialogue with the living potential of that in non-western cultures can transform and enrich the world, and create a new future.

Kvassay, http://anti-matters.org/articles/123/public/123-180-1-PB.pdf

Heehs, http://www.svabhinava.org/friends/PeterHeehs/ShadesOrient-frame.php

Banerji: http://www.debashishbanerji.com/writing/ideologicaldiscourse.html

The Lives of Sri Aurobindo: Lawsuits, Facts, Decisions

Background

In August 2008, Auroville Today published an interview of Peter Heehs along with a review of his book The Lives of Sri Aurobindo. Around the middle of September 2008, some individuals sent out extracts from the book over the internet claiming that Peter Heehs had denigrated Sri Aurobindo. The extracts were circulated to a wide audience including the SYG. At the same time printed copies of the extracts were also distributed in and around the ashram. Some persons started writing letters to the Trustees asking for action against the book and the author; some also began a signature campaign with a view to bring about public pressure on the Trustees.

At the same time, the Ashram received several letters from devotees who claimed to have read the book, and they expressed an opinion that was diametrically opposed to the opinions of those who disliked the book. There was another group of persons who felt that they liked the book on the whole, barring a few passages. Some also felt that too much was being made about an issue that didn’t deserve so much attention, and they preferred to remain unconcerned about the controversy.

Over a period of time the voice to take action against the author and the book from one section of the people became more and more shrill and this concretized into a demand for removing Peter Heehs from the ashram. Around February 2010, a second mass-petition was floated. In around June 2010, Manoj Das Gupta wrote a piece entitled, “Reflections…..” where he put forth his own perceptions regarding the controversy. Quite many people responded postivitely to the perceptions contained therein, and this helped to clarify many doubts, and gave a lie to many wild rumours and allegations.

In August 2010, five individuals claiming to be inmates of Sri Aurobindo Ashram, filed a suit against the Sri Aurobindo Ashram Trust in the district court of Puducherry under section 92 of the Civil Procudure Code. This section deals with public charitable trusts and under this any beneficiary with bona fides can approach the court of law if he or she feels that the trustees are not discharging their duties and have committed a breach of trust. The five persons said in their affidavit that the book The Lives of Sri Aurobindo is “a sacrilegious book which falsely portrays Sri Aurobindo as a liar and a mentally imbalanced person, and ridiculing his spiritual encounters and experiences as an outcome of Sri Aurobindo’s tantric sexual indulgence and schizophrenic state of mind.” And, according to them, the trustees have committed a breach of trust by continuing to harbour, defend and openly extending support to Peter Heehs instead of promoting Sri Aurobindo’s tenets and philosophy. They further claim that the trustees’ refusal to expel Peter Heehs from the ashram on their insistence and that of others constitutes a breach of trust. Furthermore, given the breach of trust, the present trustees need to be removed and new trustees will have to be appointed and the trust administered as per a scheme to be put in place by the Court.

While it is clear that the group of five individuals who have filed this suit clearly sees things this way, it is not clear if a majority of the ashram community, inmates, ex-students and devotees, see things the same way. From our interactions with various people it has occurred to us that apart from some notable supporters and sympathizers, a vast majority of the people do not approve of this court case. There is however a sense of doubt in people’s mind on whether the trustees could have handled the situation better. We have probed this doubt, discussed this with people inside and outside the ashram, and have grouped together some perceptions which we would like to present here. We will also try and validate these perceptions in the light of some basic reasoning. At the end we will also state some facts which are critical to understanding the issue.

The Decision

 

The first thing that struck some people was the tenacity with which the trustees stuck to their decision of not expelling Peter. While some call this a sign of stubborness bordering on arrogance, there are others who say that this was a sign of courage and conviction. After all, this was just a question of letting one individual go and given the public pressure at that time, a decision to expel Peter would have made the trustees instantly look like “hero warriors”. This brings us to some fundamental questions: Given its nature and aim, is public opinion a legitimate way to govern the ashram? Are the interests of the ashram inmates best addressed through public opinion? And if so, what can be consitituted as “public” and what not and how does one measure public opinion? Is public opinion always right? In spiritual life, where does the jurisdiction of public opinion begin and where does it end? These are questions to which one may not have any clear answers. Now that there is a court case these questions will perhaps be dealt with in great detail and it is quite possibile that legal minds, social scientists and bureaucrats will come up with formulations to “govern” a spiritual institution.

But does this serve the nature and aim of the ashram? For those supporting the court case, the formulation of public opinion and the current deliberations are a road to panacea. For them governance is an issue and what we see today are the pangs of a new birth, the birth of a new administrative structure that will bring in better lives for the inmates and devotees. However, for many others, it seems like a road to disaster. It seems to them that manufacturing public opinion and taking recourse to mass movements to achive a certain objective is essentially a political act which is not in consonnance with the ashram ethos. For them, an institution that aims to provide maximum opportunity to an individual to develop one’s being, each person is expected to go by his/her individual opinion rather than by the opinion of others. He/she is neither expected to follow others’ opinion nor expect others to follow his/hers. The basis of ashram life is not to bother about others but focus on one’s own inner development. Processing petitions, holding dharnas and resorting to legal action may not be an option. It does appear that public opinion in a spiritual institution is a dicey subject and it may not be entirely incorrect to say that if one is unsure of its usefulness one is best advised to keep away from it.

However, in this case, as some have pointed out, if public opinion was not a valid basis, was the sense of “public hurt” a basis on which the trustees should have acted? Although this looks like a fair question it does leave itself open to further questions. First, is “public hurt” any different from “public opinion”? And, how does one assess the credibility of the person who comes and says that he/she is hurt even when the person has not read the book? The petition contains signatures of some people who can barely read or write English. It was apparent as it is now that most of the people who were raising objections to the book had not read the book. It has also come to light from our discussions that some people who had signed the petition had not even read the extracts. There were others who signed just because they were told by their friends and peers and they simply complied. After all, everyone knows how signature campaigns are conducted! Moreover, one may argue that feeling “hurt” whether private or public, is a subjective response of the ego, and while one can sympathize with it, it cannot be held up as a justifiable and/or mandatory ground for decision-making in a spiritual institution, whose raison d’etre, voluntarily accepted by all its inmates, is to provide conditions for the transcendence of the ego, not its enablement. Was this kind of a petition credible enough for the trustees to take a decision to expel a fellow-inmate? The trustees apparently did not think so.

But then what about those who had read the book, those devotees and intellectuals, who in their best judgment, found that the book had denigrated Sri Aurobindo? Most of these people had written letters to the trustees and some had even taken the onus of explaining to the larger body of devotees across the world over the internet that Peter had transgressed all the rules of being a devotee and an ashram inmate. Unfortunately, in reality, while these devotees and intellectuals were busy criticizing Peter’s book and posting their views on the internet, there were others who started praising the book and started writing letters to the trustees stating to the contrary. Were these persons any less devoted to Sri Aurobindo and The Mother because they did not find the book to be denigrating Sri Aurobindo? There was already another opinion emerging from certain sections of the ashram community who found the book not only informative but also uplifting. A debate had already set in and it was no longer possible to decide one way or the other. It was apparent as it is now that there were multiple views on the book. The book may not have been to the taste of some devotees, but it did not mean that it was condemnable. One could accept its values as well as its limitations. Was it fair to expel a fellow-inmate based on the opinion of one section of the ashram community? The trustees apparently thought this was unfair.

It could however be argued that if the conviction and reasoning were clear why didn’t the trustees come out with a clear statement explaining their stand? This brings us back to the first issue of public opinion. Wasn’t it public opinion that wanted the trustees to come out with a public statement? As we have seen, if the very concept of public opinion in a spiritual institution remains a matter of debate is it in the best interest of the ashram to come out with public statements? Will such statements represent the voice of all the inmates and devotees or a section of them? And would such statements satisfy one and all? After all, if one goes down the path of public opinion there will perhaps be no end to “opinions” and “statements” and the ashram notice board will be filled with statements much like the press briefings dished out by political parties and leaders every day. On the other hand, those who had “individual” opinion on the issue could always go to the trustees and get their doubts sorted out. In this case, the trustees, to the best of their judgment, took a firm decision that nothing further needed to be done apart from what they had already done. And, an ashram inmate or a devotee, being truthful to his/her purpose of being in the ashram, ought perhaps to realize that this decision does not make any material difference to one’s spiritual life.

Dwelling on the administrative boundaries of the trustees it is important to understand that the prestige of the ashram lies in the spiritual values it upholds. These values are nurtured by the psychological freedom that the inmates enjoy. This freedom is such that the ashram does not seek to define The Mother and Sri Aurobindo and their yoga in any manner. It is left for each individual to perceive and follow one’s path. If one may draw an analogy, the ashram is not a crystal but a nebula where there is space around everybody. The primary responsibility of the trustees is to provide material needs and preserve this space around everyone. It is also to be understood that maintaining harmony is not the sole responsibility of the authorities as it is not anywhere in any instititution. The members of the institution are as much responsible. They are responsible by way of their willingness to co-exisit with others who may not feel alike and think alike. And finally, maintaining harmony does not mean appeasing one section of the people just because they are vocal.

And now some facts:

1.In the “Acknowledgements” section of The Lives of Sri Aurobindo Peter says that “The Sri Aurobindo Ashram is in no way responsible for the selection, arrangement, interpretation, or presentation of material in this biography. The author alone is responsible for the contents of the book.”

2.The trustees had not read the manuscript of the book prior to publication. It may be noted that the Trust does not require to approve any book by any inmate on any subject. Many books have been written without the permission or approval from the Trust.

3.There were two mass petitions. The first one was circulated in September 2008. This was signed by about 360 persons – ashram inmates, ex-students and devotees. The specific actions demanded in the first petition were (1) Peter should be removed from the Archives (the trustees, seeing the hysteria being whipped up by the detractors of the book, took a practical step, requesting Peter to stay away temporarily from the Archives) and (2) The book should be withdrawn (this demand did not make sense since the ashram was not the publisher, and the Ashram felt that any effort to ban any book would be counter productive).

4.The second mass-petition was circulated around February 2010. In hindsight it appears that this was a preparation towards the filing of Sec.92 case, though most of the signatories were probably not aware of the same. As per the petitioners’ own admission in court, this petition was signed by (to be verified) 184 ashramites (most, if not all of them, also signatories to the first petition) and 1700 odd devotees from around India. This second mass-petition never reached the Ashram. It was sent to Government of India officials, such as the Prime Minister and others. Incidentally, this in itself is a violation of a stated rule of the Ashram that no inmate of the Ashram should write to any government officials without express consent of the Board of Trustees.

5.It was alleged that the Trustees did not investigate the issue. On the contrary, Peter was asked to give an explanation by the trustees and he provided his explanation in the form of a letter, relevant parts of which were extracted by Manoj Das Gupta in his “Refelctions on……”.

6.Peter did not violate any copyright rules. It was not even necessary for him, just as it is not necessary for anyone undertaking a study, to take any permission from the copyright holder to quote from the Works of Sri Aurobindo. The Copyright Act which governs and regulates all matters relating to copyright has specific provision to this effect.

7.Contrary to what has been alleged, Peter did not take out any material from Archives and send them to anyone outside. In fact copies of various historical documents (over which Ashram cannot claim to have any copyright, since the originals exist in other places and under others care like Baroda State Records, National Archives etc.) were taken by Peter at his own personal initiative from those places, and after his purpose had been served, he had himself placed such copies at the disposal of the Archives so that they may be accessible to all.

8.There is no evidence to suggest that Peter has indulged in acts intended to “outrage religious feelings”, if at all such feelings are advisable for a community that aspires to be spiritual. Both the criminal cases filed against him in Orissa have been stayed by the High Court of Orissa.

9.The Writ in the High Court of Madras seeking Peter’s deportation has been dismissed.

10.There is still no conclusive evidence to suggest that Peter has denigrated Sri Aurobindo in his book.

Best
Ajit, Arindam, Bulu & Gautam

Elliott Colla: Egypt “The Poetry of Revolt”

Photo: Ahmed Fouad Negm & Sheikh Imam:

The Poetry of Revolt

by

Elliott Colla

It is truly inspiring to see the bravery of Egyptians as they rise up to end the criminal rule of Hosni Mubarak. It is especially inspiring to remember that what is happening is the culmination of years of work by activists from a spectrum of pro-democracy movements, human rights groups, labor unions, and civil society organizations. In 2004, when Kefaya began their first public demonstrations, the protesters were usually outnumbered 30 to one by Central Security Forces. Now the number has reversed—and multiplied.

No less astonishing is the poetry of this moment. I don’t mean “poetry” as a metaphor, but the actual poetry that has played a prominent role in the outset of the events. The slogans the protesters are chanting are couplets—and they are as loud as they are sharp. The diwan of this revolt began to be written as soon as Ben Ali fled Tunis, in pithy lines like “Yâ Mubârak! Yâ Mubârak! Is-Sa‘ûdiyya fi-ntizârak!,” (“Mubarak, O Mabarak, Saudi Arabia awaits!”). In the streets themselves, there are scores of other verses, ranging from the caustic “Shurtat Masr, yâ shurtat Masr, intû ba’aytû kilâb al-’asr” (“Egypt’s Police, Egypt’s Police, You’ve become nothing but Palace dogs”), to the defiant “Idrab idrab yâ Habîb, mahma tadrab mish hansîb!” (Hit us, beat us, O Habib [al-Adly, now-former Minister of the Interior], hit all you want—we’re not going to leave!). This last couplet is particularly clever, since it plays on the old Egyptian colloquial saying, “Darb al-habib zayy akl al-zabib” (The beloved’s fist is as sweet as raisins). This poetry is not an ornament to the uprising—it is its soundtrack and also composes a significant part of the action itself.

A History of Revolutions, a History of Poets

There is nothing unusual about poetry playing a galvanizing role in a revolutionary moment. And in this context, we might remind ourselves that making revolution is not something new for Egyptians—having had no less than three “official” revolutions in the modern era: the 1881 Urabi Revolution which overthrew a corrupt and comprador royalty; the 1919 Revolution, which nearly brought down British military rule; and the 1952 Revolution which inaugurated 60 years of military dictatorships under Nasser, Sadat and Mubarak. The first revolution succeeded in establishing the second parliamentary government on the African continent before it was crushed by foreign military intervention. In the aftermath of defeat, the British established a rapacious colonial rule over Egypt for more than 70 years. The second revolution was a sustained, popular uprising led by a range of pro-democracy activists from a range of civil institutions. Though savagely repressed, it did force the British to grant some concessions. The third revolution officially celebrated in Egypt stands apart from the first two in that it was a coup d’etat that went out of its way to circumscribe popular participation. In any case, it was accepted in the moment since it finally ended the rule of the royal family first overthrown in 1881 and initiated a process of British withdrawal from Egypt.

Besides these three state-commemorated events, Egyptians have revolted against the corruption, greed and cruelty of their rulers many more times in the last 60 years. On January 26, 1952, Egyptians emerged onto the streets to protest an array of issues—including the corruption of the monarchy, the decadence, power and privilege of foreign business elites, and the open-ended British occupation. The revolt was quickly suppressed, though the damage to property was massive, and it set in motion an exodus of foreign elites—and the military coup months later. In 1968, Egyptian students launched huge and daring protests against the repressive policies of Nasser’s police state. In the early 1970s, Egyptian students engaged in sustained mass protests against the radical political reorientations of the new Sadat regime—and eventually forced the state to re-engage in military confrontation with Israel. On January 18-19, 1977, Egyptians rose up en masse to protest against IMF austerity measures imposed on the country by the corrupt, inept and ruthless regime of Anwar Sadat. The Egyptian President was already on his jet ride into exile before the Central Security Forces and Army finally gained the upper hand. In Egypt it is the Central Security Forces rather than the military who deals with civil unrest and popular protest. Yet, even this “solution” to the problem of recurring popular revolt has proven at times uncertain. As in the military, the CSF has been the site of mutinies, one of which, in late February 1986, involved 20,000 low-paid conscripts who were put down only when the army entered the fray. During the early 1990s, Islamist protests against the authoritarian rule of Mubarak escalated into armed conflict, both in the slums of the cities and in Upper Egypt. Hundreds of militants, soldiers and innocent civilians were killed before the revolt was finally suppressed. This list leave out other significant moments of mass civil protest and contestation—like the massive protests against the First Gulf War, the US invasion of Iraq and Israel’s attacks on Lebanon and Gaza—but even so, the tally is impressive: no less than 10 major revolts and revolutions in 130 years. In other words, despite what commentators might say, modern Egyptians have never passively accepted the failed colonial or postcolonial states that fate has dealt them.

Many of these revolts have had their own poets. 1881 had the neo-classical qasidas of Mahmoud Sami al-Baroudi. 1919, the colloquial zajals of Bayram al-Tunsi. Salah Jahin became one of the leading colloquial poets of the 1952 Revolution, and his patriotic verse became core material for Abdel Halim Hafez, who pinned his career to Nasser. From the same period, Fu’ad Haddad’s mawwals also stand out—and are still sung today. Since the 1970s, it has been Ahmed Fouad Negm who has played the leading role as lyricist of militant opposition to the regimes of Egypt. For forty years, Negm’s colloquial poems—many set to music by Sheikh Imam—have electrified student, labor and dissident movements from the Egyptian underclass. Negm’s poetry ranges from praise (madh) for the courage of ordinary Egyptians, to invective (hija’) for Egypt’s overlords—and it is no accident that you could hear his songs being sung by the leftist activists who spearheaded the first day of revolt on January 25. Besides these poets, we could add many others—Naguib Surur, Abd al-Rahman al-Abnoudi, Tamim Barghouti—who have added to this literary-political tradition in their own ways.

But beyond these recognized names are thousands of other poets—activists all—who would never dare to protest publicly without an arsenal of clever couplet-slogans. The end result is a unique literary tradition whose power is now on full display across Egypt. Chroniclers of the current Egyptian revolt, like As’ad AbuKhalil, have already compiled lists of these couplets—and hundreds more are sure to come. For the most part, these poems are composed in a colloquial, not classical, register and they are extremely catchy and easy to sing. The genre also has real potential for humor and play—and remind us of the fact that revolution is also a time for celebration and laughter.

How to Do Things With Poetry

The poetry of this revolt is not reducible to a text that can be read and translated in words, for it is also an act in and of itself. That is, the couplet-slogans being sung and chanted by protesters do more than reiterate complaints and aspirations that have been communicated in other media. This poetry has the power to express messages that could not be articulated in other forms, as well as to sharpen demands with ever keener edges.

Consider the most prominent slogan being chanted today by thousands of people in Tahrir Square: “Ish-sha‘b/yu-rîd/is-qât/in-ni-zâm.” Rendered into English, it might read, “The People want the regime to fall”—but that would not begin to translate the power this simple and complex couplet-slogan has in its context. There are real poetic reasons why this has emerged as a central slogan. For instance, unlike the more ironic—humorous or bitter—slogans, this one is sincere and states it all perfectly clearly. Likewise, the register of this couplet straddles colloquial Egyptian and standard media Arabic—and it is thus readily understandable to the massive Arab audiences who are watching and listening. And finally, like all the other couplet-slogans being shouted, this has a regular metrical and stress pattern (in this case: short-LONG, short-LONG, short-LONG, short-SHORT-LONG). While unlike most others, this particular couplet is not rhymed, it can be sung and shouted by thousands of people in a unified, clear cadence—and that seems to be a key factor in why it works so well.

The prosody of the revolt suggests that there is more at stake in these couplet-slogans than the creation and distillation of a purely semantic meaning. For one thing, the act of singing and shouting with large groups of fellow citizens has created a certain and palpable sense of community that had not existed before. And the knowledge that one belongs to a movement bound by a positive collective ethos is powerful in its own right—especially in the face of a regime that has always sought to morally denigrate all political opposition. Likewise, the act of singing invective that satirizes feared public figures has an immediate impact that cannot be cannot be explained in terms of language, for learning to laugh at one’s oppressor is a key part of unlearning fear. Indeed, witnesses to the revolt have consistently commented that in the early hours of the revolt—when invective was most ascendant—protesters began to lose their fear.

And having lost that fear, Egyptians are showing no signs of wanting to go back. As the Mubarak regime has continued to unleash more violence, and as it steps up its campaign to sow chaos and confusion, the recitation of these couplet-slogans has continued, as if the act of repeating them helps the protesters concentrate on their core principles and demands. Only hours ago, as jets and helicopters attempted to intimidate protesters in Tahrir Square, it seemed as if the crowd understood something of this—for with each sortie, their singing grew louder and more focused. It was difficult to determine whether the crowd sustained the words, or the words the crowd.

Poetry and Contingency

Anyone who has ever chanted slogans in a public demonstration has also probably asked herself at some point: why am I doing this? what does shouting accomplish? The question provokes a feeling of embarrassment, the suspicion that the gesture might be rote and thus empty and powerless. Arguably, this nervousness is a form of performance anxiety that, if taken seriously, might remind us that the ritual of singing slogans was invented precisely because it has the power to accomplish things. When philosophers speak of “doing things with words,” they also remind us that the success of the locutionary act is tied to the conditions in which it is performed. This is another way to say that any speech act is highly contingent—its success only occurs in particular circumstances, and even then, its success is never a given. Success, if it is to occur, happens only in the doing of it.

Since January 25, Egyptians been leaping into the uncertainty of this revolutionary performance. They have now crossed multiple thresholds—and each time, they have acted with no guarantee of success. This is, I think, the core of their astonishing courage: at each point it has been impossible to say that victory is already theirs. Even now, six days into the revolt, we still cannot say how things will eventually turn out. Nor are there rules of history and previous examples that can definitively tell us. Certainly, revolutions follow patterns—and those who rise up tend to be the most diligent students of past uprisings. Activists in Cairo ask comrades in Tunis about tactics, while others try to glean Iran’s Green Revolution for lessons that might be applied now. Yet, in the end, each revolution is its own moment.

Those who decide to make their own history are, in the end, not only required to write their own script and build their own stage, they are also compelled to then play the new roles with enough force and conviction to make it cohere, even in the face of overwhelming violence. We have already seen one example of this re-scripting in the extraordinary, original pamphlet from Egypt entitled, “How to Revolt Intelligently.” The poetry of the streets is another form of writing, of redrafting the script of history in the here and now—with no assurances of victory, and everything in the balance.

Radio Open Source:Elliott Colla: “The Poetry of Revolt” in the New Egypt

 

Elliott Colla is sharing the soundtrack in his head of Egyptian revolts, today and yesterday, going back to the 1880s.

Poets were invariably major players — in heady, optimistic, galvanizing roles as popular risings took off. Novelists (including the great Naguib Mafouz) got the darker job afterward of detailing regrets and reversals. Most of Egypt’s ten popular rebellions before the epochal events of this winter were against the British, and most of them were sorry failures.

We’re talking about the “the poetry of revolt,” street songs, chanting for courage, the tradition more than a century old of satire, ridicule and invective that has finally toppled a US-chummy police state and, for now, beaten the odds against a people’s rebellion.

Memo for the next explosion: tune in on the poets and the jam bands; tune out the newspapers. So much of what we’re told about places like Egypt — and so little of the story now unfolding — gets centered on the geopolitics of the place, and its holy books. It’s the novels and the pop culture, as Elliot Colla’s reminding us, that suggest how people live and love, aspire and mourn. Astonishing, isn’t it, how little we hear from the earth-shakers in Tahrir Square about the U.S. or Israel. Or the Koran. Or, for example, about the Arab nationalist giant of the 1950s, Gamal Abdel Nasser, who seems as remote from today’s proceedings as the Sphinx.

I am asking Elliott Colla why the rebels who busted Mubarak have been so tender about his great backer, Uncle Sam. Are they playing to President Obama, who could still be their partner? Or to their young Facebook Friends in America? Or are they just ignoring us? Or maybe unaware of us?

This is a new generation, a generation of activists who are not ideological. In other words, they have looked at the struggles of their parents and even grandparents against imperialism, against capitalism, against all the “isms.” By and large, they are saying that’s not how they want to understand the world, and that’s not how they’re going to organize their response to the problems that they face. In this sense, many in the leadership have no ideological platform; they are starting their analysis and their project from how they live their daily life, what they see, what they experience, what they would rather have. …

Look at their demands, these aren’t specific to Egypt, these are simple, straightforward civil and human rights that they started with. They’re confident in this: if they can have those things, they can have a government that actually represents their interest, and not the interests of a ruling elite, and then they can handle these other things that might be called ideology. It’s a completely new way of doing revolution. We usually think you get your ideology straight first, and then you do your program; this is doing it the other way around.

Elliott Colla of Georgetown University in conversation with Chris Lydon at Brown, February 15, 2011.

to listen to the poetry of revolt click here on the conversation

How We Know by Freeman Dyson

Photo: Jorge Luis Borges

Review of: The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood
by James Gleick

Pantheon, 526 pp., $29.95

The New York Review of Books: How We Know
by
Freeman Dyson

 

 

Érik Desmazières: La Salle des planètes, from his series of illustrations for Jorge Luis Borges’s story ‘The Library of Babel,’ 1997–2001. A new volume of Desmazières’s catalogue raisonné will be published by the Fitch-Febvrel Gallery later this year. Illustration © 2011 Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York/ADAGP, Paris.

James Gleick’s first chapter has the title “Drums That Talk.” It explains the concept of information by looking at a simple example. The example is a drum language used in a part of the Democratic Republic of Congo where the human language is Kele. European explorers had been aware for a long time that the irregular rhythms of African drums were carrying mysterious messages through the jungle. Explorers would arrive at villages where no European had been before and find that the village elders were already prepared to meet them.

Sadly, the drum language was only understood and recorded by a single European before it started to disappear. The European was John Carrington, an English missionary who spent his life in Africa and became fluent in both Kele and drum language. He arrived in Africa in 1938 and published his findings in 1949 in a book, The Talking Drums of Africa.1 Before the arrival of the Europeans with their roads and radios, the Kele-speaking Africans had used the drum language for rapid communication from village to village in the rain forest. Every village had an expert drummer and every villager could understand what the drums were saying. By the time Carrington wrote his book, the use of drum language was already fading and schoolchildren were no longer learning it. In the sixty years since then, telephones made drum language obsolete and completed the process of extinction.

Carrington understood how the structure of the Kele language made drum language possible. Kele is a tonal language with two sharply distinct tones. Each syllable is either low or high. The drum language is spoken by a pair of drums with the same two tones. Each Kele word is spoken by the drums as a sequence of low and high beats. In passing from human Kele to drum language, all the information contained in vowels and consonants is lost. In a European language, the consonants and vowels contain all the information, and if this information were dropped there would be nothing left. But in a tonal language like Kele, some information is carried in the tones and survives the transition from human speaker to drums. The fraction of information that survives in a drum word is small, and the words spoken by the drums are correspondingly ambiguous. A single sequence of tones may have hundreds of meanings depending on the missing vowels and consonants. The drum language must resolve the ambiguity of the individual words by adding more words. When enough redundant words are added, the meaning of the message becomes unique.

In 1954 a visitor from the United States came to Carrington’s mission school. Carrington was taking a walk in the forest and his wife wished to call him home for lunch. She sent him a message in drum language and explained it to the visitor. To be intelligible to Carrington, the message needed to be expressed with redundant and repeated phrases: “White man spirit in forest come come to house of shingles high up above of white man spirit in forest. Woman with yam awaits. Come come.” Carrington heard the message and came home. On the average, about eight words of drum language were needed to transmit one word of human language unambiguously. Western mathematicians would say that about one eighth of the information in the human Kele language belongs to the tones that are transmitted by the drum language. The redundancy of the drum language phrases compensates for the loss of the information in vowels and consonants. The African drummers knew nothing of Western mathematics, but they found the right level of redundancy for their drum language by trial and error. Carrington’s wife had learned the language from the drummers and knew how to use it.

The story of the drum language illustrates the central dogma of information theory. The central dogma says, “Meaning is irrelevant.” Information is independent of the meaning that it expresses, and of the language used to express it. Information is an abstract concept, which can be embodied equally well in human speech or in writing or in drumbeats. All that is needed to transfer information from one language to another is a coding system. A coding system may be simple or complicated. If the code is simple, as it is for the drum language with its two tones, a given amount of information requires a longer message. If the code is complicated, as it is for spoken language, the same amount of information can be conveyed in a shorter message.

Another example illustrating the central dogma is the French optical telegraph. Until the year 1793, the fifth year of the French Revolution, the African drummers were ahead of Europeans in their ability to transmit information rapidly over long distances. In 1793, Claude Chappe, a patriotic citizen of France, wishing to strengthen the defense of the revolutionary government against domestic and foreign enemies, invented a device that he called the telegraph. The telegraph was an optical communication system with stations consisting of large movable pointers mounted on the tops of sixty-foot towers. Each station was manned by an operator who could read a message transmitted by a neighboring station and transmit the same message to the next station in the transmission line.

The distance between neighbors was about seven miles. Along the transmission lines, optical messages in France could travel faster than drum messages in Africa. When Napoleon took charge of the French Republic in 1799, he ordered the completion of the optical telegraph system to link all the major cities of France from Calais and Paris to Toulon and onward to Milan. The telegraph became, as Claude Chappe had intended, an important instrument of national power. Napoleon made sure that it was not available to private users.

Unlike the drum language, which was based on spoken language, the optical telegraph was based on written French. Chappe invented an elaborate coding system to translate written messages into optical signals. Chappe had the opposite problem from the drummers. The drummers had a fast transmission system with ambiguous messages. They needed to slow down the transmission to make the messages unambiguous. Chappe had a painfully slow transmission system with redundant messages. The French language, like most alphabetic languages, is highly redundant, using many more letters than are needed to convey the meaning of a message. Chappe’s coding system allowed messages to be transmitted faster. Many common phrases and proper names were encoded by only two optical symbols, with a substantial gain in speed of transmission. The composer and the reader of the message had code books listing the message codes for eight thousand phrases and names. For Napoleon it was an advantage to have a code that was effectively cryptographic, keeping the content of the messages secret from citizens along the route.

After these two historical examples of rapid communication in Africa and France, the rest of Gleick’s book is about the modern development of information technology. The modern history is dominated by two Americans, Samuel Morse and Claude Shannon. Samuel Morse was the inventor of Morse Code. He was also one of the pioneers who built a telegraph system using electricity conducted through wires instead of optical pointers deployed on towers. Morse launched his electric telegraph in 1838 and perfected the code in 1844. His code used short and long pulses of electric current to represent letters of the alphabet.

Morse was ideologically at the opposite pole from Chappe. He was not interested in secrecy or in creating an instrument of government power. The Morse system was designed to be a profit-making enterprise, fast and cheap and available to everybody. At the beginning the price of a message was a quarter of a cent per letter. The most important users of the system were newspaper correspondents spreading news of local events to readers all over the world. Morse Code was simple enough that anyone could learn it. The system provided no secrecy to the users. If users wanted secrecy, they could invent their own secret codes and encipher their messages themselves. The price of a message in cipher was higher than the price of a message in plain text, because the telegraph operators could transcribe plain text faster. It was much easier to correct errors in plain text than in cipher.

Claude Shannon was the founding father of information theory. For a hundred years after the electric telegraph, other communication systems such as the telephone, radio, and television were invented and developed by engineers without any need for higher mathematics. Then Shannon supplied the theory to understand all of these systems together, defining information as an abstract quantity inherent in a telephone message or a television picture. Shannon brought higher mathematics into the game.

When Shannon was a boy growing up on a farm in Michigan, he built a homemade telegraph system using Morse Code. Messages were transmitted to friends on neighboring farms, using the barbed wire of their fences to conduct electric signals. When World War II began, Shannon became one of the pioneers of scientific cryptography, working on the high-level cryptographic telephone system that allowed Roosevelt and Churchill to talk to each other over a secure channel. Shannon’s friend Alan Turing was also working as a cryptographer at the same time, in the famous British Enigma project that successfully deciphered German military codes. The two pioneers met frequently when Turing visited New York in 1943, but they belonged to separate secret worlds and could not exchange ideas about cryptography.

In 1945 Shannon wrote a paper, “A Mathematical Theory of Cryptography,” which was stamped SECRET and never saw the light of day. He published in 1948 an expurgated version of the 1945 paper with the title “A Mathematical Theory of Communication.” The 1948 version appeared in the Bell System Technical Journal, the house journal of the Bell Telephone Laboratories, and became an instant classic. It is the founding document for the modern science of information. After Shannon, the technology of information raced ahead, with electronic computers, digital cameras, the Internet, and the World Wide Web.

ccording to Gleick, the impact of information on human affairs came in three installments: first the history, the thousands of years during which people created and exchanged information without the concept of measuring it; second the theory, first formulated by Shannon; third the flood, in which we now live. The flood began quietly. The event that made the flood plainly visible occurred in 1965, when Gordon Moore stated Moore’s Law. Moore was an electrical engineer, founder of the Intel Corporation, a company that manufactured components for computers and other electronic gadgets. His law said that the price of electronic components would decrease and their numbers would increase by a factor of two every eighteen months. This implied that the price would decrease and the numbers would increase by a factor of a hundred every decade. Moore’s prediction of continued growth has turned out to be astonishingly accurate during the forty-five years since he announced it. In these four and a half decades, the price has decreased and the numbers have increased by a factor of a billion, nine powers of ten. Nine powers of ten are enough to turn a trickle into a flood.

Gordon Moore was in the hardware business, making hardware components for electronic machines, and he stated his law as a law of growth for hardware. But the law applies also to the information that the hardware is designed to embody. The purpose of the hardware is to store and process information. The storage of information is called memory, and the processing of information is called computing. The consequence of Moore’s Law for information is that the price of memory and computing decreases and the available amount of memory and computing increases by a factor of a hundred every decade. The flood of hardware becomes a flood of information.

In 1949, one year after Shannon published the rules of information theory, he drew up a table of the various stores of memory that then existed. The biggest memory in his table was the US Library of Congress, which he estimated to contain one hundred trillion bits of information. That was at the time a fair guess at the sum total of recorded human knowledge. Today a memory disc drive storing that amount of information weighs a few pounds and can be bought for about a thousand dollars. Information, otherwise known as data, pours into memories of that size or larger, in government and business offices and scientific laboratories all over the world. Gleick quotes the computer scientist Jaron Lanier describing the effect of the flood: “It’s as if you kneel to plant the seed of a tree and it grows so fast that it swallows your whole town before you can even rise to your feet.”

On December 8, 2010, Gleick published on the The New York Review’s blog an illuminating essay, “The Information Palace.” It was written too late to be included in his book. It describes the historical changes of meaning of the word “information,” as recorded in the latest quarterly online revision of the Oxford English Dictionary. The word first appears in 1386 a parliamentary report with the meaning “denunciation.” The history ends with the modern usage, “information fatigue,” defined as “apathy, indifference or mental exhaustion arising from exposure to too much information.”

he consequences of the information flood are not all bad. One of the creative enterprises made possible by the flood is Wikipedia, started ten years ago by Jimmy Wales. Among my friends and acquaintances, everybody distrusts Wikipedia and everybody uses it. Distrust and productive use are not incompatible. Wikipedia is the ultimate open source repository of information. Everyone is free to read it and everyone is free to write it. It contains articles in 262 languages written by several million authors. The information that it contains is totally unreliable and surprisingly accurate. It is often unreliable because many of the authors are ignorant or careless. It is often accurate because the articles are edited and corrected by readers who are better informed than the authors.

Jimmy Wales hoped when he started Wikipedia that the combination of enthusiastic volunteer writers with open source information technology would cause a revolution in human access to knowledge. The rate of growth of Wikipedia exceeded his wildest dreams. Within ten years it has become the biggest storehouse of information on the planet and the noisiest battleground of conflicting opinions. It illustrates Shannon’s law of reliable communication. Shannon’s law says that accurate transmission of information is possible in a communication system with a high level of noise. Even in the noisiest system, errors can be reliably corrected and accurate information transmitted, provided that the transmission is sufficiently redundant. That is, in a nutshell, how Wikipedia works.

The information flood has also brought enormous benefits to science. The public has a distorted view of science, because children are taught in school that science is a collection of firmly established truths. In fact, science is not a collection of truths. It is a continuing exploration of mysteries. Wherever we go exploring in the world around us, we find mysteries. Our planet is covered by continents and oceans whose origin we cannot explain. Our atmosphere is constantly stirred by poorly understood disturbances that we call weather and climate. The visible matter in the universe is outweighed by a much larger quantity of dark invisible matter that we do not understand at all. The origin of life is a total mystery, and so is the existence of human consciousness. We have no clear idea how the electrical discharges occurring in nerve cells in our brains are connected with our feelings and desires and actions.

Even physics, the most exact and most firmly established branch of science, is still full of mysteries. We do not know how much of Shannon’s theory of information will remain valid when quantum devices replace classical electric circuits as the carriers of information. Quantum devices may be made of single atoms or microscopic magnetic circuits. All that we know for sure is that they can theoretically do certain jobs that are beyond the reach of classical devices. Quantum computing is still an unexplored mystery on the frontier of information theory. Science is the sum total of a great multitude of mysteries. It is an unending argument between a great multitude of voices. It resembles Wikipedia much more than it resembles the Encyclopaedia Britannica.

he rapid growth of the flood of information in the last ten years made Wikipedia possible, and the same flood made twenty-first-century science possible. Twenty-first-century science is dominated by huge stores of information that we call databases. The information flood has made it easy and cheap to build databases. One example of a twenty-first-century database is the collection of genome sequences of living creatures belonging to various species from microbes to humans. Each genome contains the complete genetic information that shaped the creature to which it belongs. The genome data-base is rapidly growing and is available for scientists all over the world to explore. Its origin can be traced to the year 1939, when Shannon wrote his Ph.D. thesis with the title “An Algebra for Theoretical Genetics.”

Shannon was then a graduate student in the mathematics department at MIT. He was only dimly aware of the possible physical embodiment of genetic information. The true physical embodiment of the genome is the double helix structure of DNA molecules, discovered by Francis Crick and James Watson fourteen years later. In 1939 Shannon understood that the basis of genetics must be information, and that the information must be coded in some abstract algebra independent of its physical embodiment. Without any knowledge of the double helix, he could not hope to guess the detailed structure of the genetic code. He could only imagine that in some distant future the genetic information would be decoded and collected in a giant database that would define the total diversity of living creatures. It took only sixty years for his dream to come true.

In the twentieth century, genomes of humans and other species were laboriously decoded and translated into sequences of letters in computer memories. The decoding and translation became cheaper and faster as time went on, the price decreasing and the speed increasing according to Moore’s Law. The first human genome took fifteen years to decode and cost about a billion dollars. Now a human genome can be decoded in a few weeks and costs a few thousand dollars. Around the year 2000, a turning point was reached, when it became cheaper to produce genetic information than to understand it. Now we can pass a piece of human DNA through a machine and rapidly read out the genetic information, but we cannot read out the meaning of the information. We shall not fully understand the information until we understand in detail the processes of embryonic development that the DNA orchestrated to make us what we are.

A similar turning point was reached about the same time in the science of astronomy. Telescopes and spacecraft have evolved slowly, but cameras and optical data processors have evolved fast. Modern sky-survey projects collect data from huge areas of sky and produce databases with accurate information about billions of objects. Astronomers without access to large instruments can make discoveries by mining the databases instead of observing the sky. Big databases have caused similar revolutions in other sciences such as biochemistry and ecology.

The explosive growth of information in our human society is a part of the slower growth of ordered structures in the evolution of life as a whole. Life has for billions of years been evolving with organisms and ecosystems embodying increasing amounts of information. The evolution of life is a part of the evolution of the universe, which also evolves with increasing amounts of information embodied in ordered structures, galaxies and stars and planetary systems. In the living and in the nonliving world, we see a growth of order, starting from the featureless and uniform gas of the early universe and producing the magnificent diversity of weird objects that we see in the sky and in the rain forest. Everywhere around us, wherever we look, we see evidence of increasing order and increasing information. The technology arising from Shannon’s discoveries is only a local acceleration of the natural growth of information.

he visible growth of ordered structures in the universe seemed paradoxical to nineteenth-century scientists and philosophers, who believed in a dismal doctrine called the heat death. Lord Kelvin, one of the leading physicists of that time, promoted the heat death dogma, predicting that the flow of heat from warmer to cooler objects will result in a decrease of temperature differences everywhere, until all temperatures ultimately become equal. Life needs temperature differences, to avoid being stifled by its waste heat. So life will disappear.

This dismal view of the future was in startling contrast to the ebullient growth of life that we see around us. Thanks to the discoveries of astronomers in the twentieth century, we now know that the heat death is a myth. The heat death can never happen, and there is no paradox. The best popular account of the disappearance of the paradox is a chapter, “How Order Was Born of Chaos,” in the book Creation of the Universe, by Fang Lizhi and his wife Li Shuxian.2 Fang Lizhi is doubly famous as a leading Chinese astronomer and a leading political dissident. He is now pursuing his double career at the University of Arizona.

The belief in a heat death was based on an idea that I call the cooking rule. The cooking rule says that a piece of steak gets warmer when we put it on a hot grill. More generally, the rule says that any object gets warmer when it gains energy, and gets cooler when it loses energy. Humans have been cooking steaks for thousands of years, and nobody ever saw a steak get colder while cooking on a fire. The cooking rule is true for objects small enough for us to handle. If the cooking rule is always true, then Lord Kelvin’s argument for the heat death is correct.

We now know that the cooking rule is not true for objects of astronomical size, for which gravitation is the dominant form of energy. The sun is a familiar example. As the sun loses energy by radiation, it becomes hotter and not cooler. Since the sun is made of compressible gas squeezed by its own gravitation, loss of energy causes it to become smaller and denser, and the compression causes it to become hotter. For almost all astronomical objects, gravitation dominates, and they have the same unexpected behavior. Gravitation reverses the usual relation between energy and temperature. In the domain of astronomy, when heat flows from hotter to cooler objects, the hot objects get hotter and the cool objects get cooler. As a result, temperature differences in the astronomical universe tend to increase rather than decrease as time goes on. There is no final state of uniform temperature, and there is no heat death. Gravitation gives us a universe hospitable to life. Information and order can continue to grow for billions of years in the future, as they have evidently grown in the past.

The vision of the future as an infinite playground, with an unending sequence of mysteries to be understood by an unending sequence of players exploring an unending supply of information, is a glorious vision for scientists. Scientists find the vision attractive, since it gives them a purpose for their existence and an unending supply of jobs. The vision is less attractive to artists and writers and ordinary people. Ordinary people are more interested in friends and family than in science. Ordinary people may not welcome a future spent swimming in an unending flood of information. A darker view of the information-dominated universe was described in a famous story, “The Library of Babel,” by Jorge Luis Borges in 1941.3 Borges imagined his library, with an infinite array of books and shelves and mirrors, as a metaphor for the universe.

Gleick’s book has an epilogue entitled “The Return of Meaning,” expressing the concerns of people who feel alienated from the prevailing scientific culture. The enormous success of information theory came from Shannon’s decision to separate information from meaning. His central dogma, “Meaning is irrelevant,” declared that information could be handled with greater freedom if it was treated as a mathematical abstraction independent of meaning. The consequence of this freedom is the flood of information in which we are drowning. The immense size of modern databases gives us a feeling of meaninglessness. Information in such quantities reminds us of Borges’s library extending infinitely in all directions. It is our task as humans to bring meaning back into this wasteland. As finite creatures who think and feel, we can create islands of meaning in the sea of information. Gleick ends his book with Borges’s image of the human condition:

We walk the corridors, searching the shelves and rearranging them, looking for lines of meaning amid leagues of cacophony and incoherence, reading the history of the past and of the future, collecting our thoughts and collecting the thoughts of others, and every so often glimpsing mirrors, in which we may recognize creatures of the information.