Fight Crackers on Your Own; Don't Bring the Government, Courts into It

Last year on Diwali day I wrote this article, Everyone Who Criticises The Way Festivals Are Being Observed Is Not A Hindu Hater, that earned me the wrath of, and consequently countless abuses from, the cultural right, a loose group that claims it is out to save Hinduism not just from other religious groups but also what they call `Hindu-hating Hindus’. I was making a simple, nuanced point: I don’t agree with the campaign against crackers, but not everybody wanting them banned or restraint on their use is a festival shamer or Hindu hater. Of course, I was promptly labelled as both (apart from a lot of other things).

This year, my criticism of the Supreme Court order banning sale of fire-crackers  in Delhi before and till well after Diwali could earn me another label, this time from those who are rejoicing over the court order – Hindu fanatic. Apparently only this lot, which wants to add to Delhi’s air and noise pollution and has no consideration for people and pets affected by the smoke, will object to the order. 

Now, one has reconciled to the death of nuance in any debate, but even then this is a bit much. When will people get this: someone asking for a ban on crackers or for some restraint in over-the-top celebrations of any festival is not necessarily a Hindu-hater. And someone criticising the Supreme Court order is not necessarily an inconsiderate Hindu fanatic/sanghi/BJP-sympathiser.  

That apart, the Supreme Court order is wrong because it is a clear case of judicial over-reach. 

There is no clinching evidence that firecrackers are the main cause of air and noise pollution in Delhi. Monday’s Supreme Court judgement quotes an earlier order of September 12 which says: 

. . . from the material before us, it cannot be said with any great degree of certainty that the extremely poor quality of air in Delhi in November and December 2016 was the result only of bursting fireworks around Diwali. Certainly, there were other causes as well, but even so the contribution of the bursting of fireworks cannot be glossed over. Unfortunately, neither is it possible to give an accurate or relative assessment of the contribution of the other identified factors nor the contribution of bursting fireworks to the poor air quality in Delhi and in the NCR. (emphasis added)

So, then, why the ban? Apparently the 2016 order restricting sale of firecrackers came  after Diwali and the Court wants to see the effect of the ban around Diwali this year. This is not convincing enough. 

Those welcoming the order say this judicial intervention was necessary because this is a serious and very real social problem that affects the health of people in Delhi and the government was not doing anything about it. Okay, point conceded. But then wasn’t the issue of accidents on highways due to drunken driving also a serious social issue, which led the Supreme Court to prohibit state governments from granting licences to liquor vends and bars  along state and national highways? 

But that sparked enormous outrage from the very sections that are hailing the current Delhi-centric ban. Many of the arguments at that  time cited lack of evidence that all drunk driving deaths on highways were caused by people who drank at liquor vends along these roads. So why doesn’t this lack of evidence apply now? 

Gautam Bhatia and other legal experts have pointed out on social media that the order on firecrackers is faulty because there’s no specific law being violated. Bhatia also cited the example of the Court’s interim order on standing for the national anthem, which was justified on the basis of the lack of a law on the subject, as another example of overreach. 

But that order attracted widespread condemnation by the very sections that are welcoming Monday’s order. Go figure.

Am I indulging in whataboutery? Yes, unapologetically so. Sometimes whataboutery is needed to call out hypocrisy. One cannot say judicial intervention is justified when it serves your pet cause but not justified when it does not. (Incidentally, this applies to the `cultural right’, that is lambasting the order, as well. You cannot hail the Supreme Court when it orders people to stand up for the national anthem and criticise it for banning firecrackers on Diwali.)

The Indian Constitution, which many of those welcoming the order swear by, has certain tasks set out for the three arms of government. There is a principle called separation of powers. The issue of liquor vends along highways, firecrackers during Diwali and standing up for the national anthem are all areas where the executive and legislature need to act. Just because you cannot persuade them to do so, you can’t seek and justify judicial intervention.  

Am I belittling the issue of the problem of over-the-top firecrackers during Diwali? No. It is a serious problem and not just in Delhi. Even someone like me who loved bursting firecrackers (and  initiated my nephew  into bursting them) and think Diwali is incomplete without them cringe at what goes on these days. I know the problem asthma patients face – my sister used to be asthmatic and my parents had a hard time keeping her away from crackers and keeping her indoors when  the smoke got too much (incidentally, she  did not stop her son from bursting crackers). I know a lot of devout Hindus who are distressed by the noise and smoke. In Delhi, at least, crackers have always been more about display of wealth than anything else.  

But getting the government, or failing that, the Supreme Court to ban it is not the solution. This only gives the government more power over our lives. We cannot  bring the state into every your-freedom-ends-where-my-nose-begins issue. There are some issues we have to address ourselves. 

So, go ahead appeal to your colonies/housing societies to regulate use of crackers, raise awareness  about the ill-effects of crackers, call the cops when you find people bursting crackers beyond  10 pm (instead of  saying `how can we complain about our neighbours, it doesn’t look nice’), don’t give or accept sweets and presents from neighbours  who burst  crackers. But don’t bring the government or the courts into it.

It’s time planners did some jugaad on rural public transport

http://www.firstpost.com/business/its-time-planners-did-some-jugaad-on-rural-public-transport-794335.html

On the face of it, the Supreme Court order of May 15 directing all states to ensure that jugaad vehicles  do not ply unless they are registered with the regional transport authorities and have third party insurance needs to be welcomed.
Jugaad vehicles are those makeshift, rickety contraptions powered by irrigation pump motors that pass for public transport in many rural areas of north India. It doesn’t require a Supreme Court order to make one realise that these are extremely risky to the life and limb of its passengers. The Court’s order will have the effect of getting them off the roads.
That’s great from the point of view of public safety, but has anyone spared a thought for those who willingly clamber on to these? Why would people knowingly get into patently obvious death-traps? They do so only because there are no alternatives for them. Affordable public transport  is practically non-existent in the areas where the jugaads operate.
The jugaad passengers are those at the bottom of the pyramid, who may not possess even a cycle. The jugaad offers the only means of getting from point A to point B, and those points will be from home to work and back. Not getting on to a jugaad could mean having to forsake a day’s wage. As for the risk of injury or death, that is to be left to fate. The Supreme Court order will leave them stranded.
Is this article, then, a plea to let these death traps stay? Not at all. It merely seeks to question the practicality of implementation of the Supreme Court order, given the complete lack of alternatives in rural areas.
It is not as if these jugaad vehicles were off the official radar till now. In July 2007, the Union Roads Ministry had sent out a circular to all states that jugaads fall under the definition of ‘motor vehicle’ in the Motor Vehicles Act, 1988. Therefore, they would need to be registered, get a number plate and insurance. Getting registered would mean adhering to certain quality standards, which the jugaads would not have been able to do.
If, therefore, in 2013, the Supreme Court has to issue another directive to states, it shows that governments have not been able to deal with the ‘menace’, as the Court termed these vehicles, in these past six years.  Action has been taken against them, but they are soon back on the roads after greasing a few palms.
The continued existence of jugaads is nothing but a damning indictment of the state of rural public transport. According to the report of the Working Group on Road Transport for the Twelfth Plan, less than one-third of the nearly six lakh inhabited villages are serviced by the State Road Transport Undertakings. Is there any discussion at all on this, with the kind of urgency and seriousness that urban public transport gets (it is another matter that despite all the attention, urban public transport is also in a mess)?
Servicing the rural market will be difficult, since it will not be as lucrative as the urban one. But rural India is changing – rising income levels and growing opportunities mean that people are mobile and want mobility solutions. It is up to both politicians and administrators to work out solutions to this difficult market. Otherwise, people will be compelled to take whatever sub-optimal solution is on hand.
One only has to look at a somewhat similar situation in Delhi, where the public transport system is in shambles. There are around 5,000 buses on the road, far short of the required 11,000. (Incidentally, this 11,000 requirement was set by the Supreme Court in 2001; Delhi’s population has multiplied since then.) For the middle class, the gap is filled by ‘chartered buses’ (private tourist buses meant to be hired by a group of people from one point to another, but which pick up and drop passengers just like public buses).
For the lower income group, the only option to an unreliable public bus service is an illegal one. Delhi’s transport department started a Gramin Seva, meant for Delhi’s rural areas which do not offer profitable routes for a full-fledged bus service. The nine-seater Gramin Seva vehicles are now, however, a common sight on Delhi’s arterial roads, catering to the low-income population, in complete violation of their permit conditions. They are dangerously overcrowded and are driven recklessly.
The only saving grace is that these are branded vehicles and not a cannibalised set of wheels like the jugaads. There is no dearth of passengers for the Gramin Seva because the section it caters to cannot afford auto-rickshaws or chartered buses. There is the Metro, but the reach is not as extensive as that of the Gramin Seva. Action is taken against these vehicles but a mixture of political clout and bribes ensure that they are back on the road again.
Delhi’s school children are also transported in extremely unsafe conditions. They are crammed into Maruti vans, with children sitting on the front seat with the driver without seat belts. Or they travel in cycle rickshaws where a wooden seat which juts out on both sides of the rickshaw is attached. These are children of middle class parents who would be willing to pay for a reliable bus service if it were available. The Maruti vans are routinely challaned but they too get back on the roads the very next day. The demand ensures that they do.
If, in the capital city, limited choice makes it impossible to enforce safe transport standards, one can imagine the situation in far-flung rural areas, where there is no choice worth the name.
Maybe, because of the sanctity of the Supreme Court order, state governments will take jugaad vehicles off rural roads. But if they don’t take steps simultaneously to address the unmet demand for rural public transport, things will be back to square one. The Indian jugaad spirit will only replace the current lot of vehicles with some other means of transport, which could be more unsafe. They will continue till another Supreme Court order some years down the line.
So long as there is demand to ensure that earnings more than make up for the bribes paid, such services – whether Gramin Sevas in Delhi or jugaads in the rural areas – will continue.
That is the bitter truth.

Killing the nation’s honour

The Supreme Court has issued notices to eight states and the Central government on the issue of honour killings. It has asked them what steps they have taken/will take to protect young couples from the wrath of their families. This is in response to a public interest litigation filed by an NGO, Shakti Vahini.

And as I write, the National Commission of Women chief Girija Vyas is talking on television about the need for tougher laws to deal with honour killings.

There's no disputing the fact that honour killings are a blot on society. And khap panchayats have no role in a civilized society and democratic polity. Also, young people have a right to marry whom they want to. Parents too have a right to oppose and point out problems of inter-caste/inter-religion/same gotra marriages. But they don't have the right to force their children to obey their will. Or kill them if they don't listen.

But can the issue be dealt with through judicial intervention? Or through tougher laws?

I have my doubts.

This is a mindset issue, which goes beyond kangaroo courts in rural hinterlands. It exists in urban areas, among so-called highly educated, sophisticated families. Remember the Rizwanur Rehman case in Calcutta? Or the Nirupama Pathak case in Jharkhand? Indeed, the marrying-beneath-one's-status issue is a universal one, going beyond religion or caste or gotra.

The NGO and the Supreme Court are probably going to focus on how runaway couples are tracked down and murdered and are not helped by the police. In fact the police often takes the side of the families. Think again of Rizwanur. Or of Rajnish Sharma of Jammu who was found hanging in a Srinagar police station. He had married a Muslim girl who alleged that her family and the police had colluded to murder him. Or of the trumped up rape charges that are always slapped against the boy. In fact, the Supreme Court came down strongly on the police on this count.

But let's go back to another Supreme Court order in December 2009. Two of its judges reduced the death sentence pronounced on a brother who killed his sister's husband, who belonged to a lower caste, and his father and brothers in 2004 in Bombay. The sentence was reduced to life imprisonment. Just read what the two judges - V S Sirpurkar and Deepak Verma - observed while reducing the sentence:

...Caste is a concept which grips a person before his birth and does not leave him even after his death. The vicious grip of the caste, community, religion, though totally unjustified, is a stark reality. The psyche of the offender in the background of a social issue like an inter-caste-community marriage, though wholly unjustified, would have to be considered on the peculiar circumstances.

These are learned judges making statements like this. How do you expect a relatively less educated policeman from a conservative, rustic background to react when a girl's family comes to him talking about ghar ki izzat and all that?

Look at the complexity we are dealing with. In the Bombay case, the brother - Dilip Tiwari, a brahmin - was assisted in the murder by two people from a lower caste - Manoj Paswan and Sunil Yadav. Obviously they found nothing ironic in the idea that they were helping a high caste man murder someone from a lower caste. After all, ghar ki izzat ka sawaal hai. If a girl from their families were to marry someone from an even lower caste, clearly, they would mete the same treatment to her.

Am I saying that the problem of honour killings should not be addressed at all? Not at all.

But I wonder what a court can do in the matter. Maybe ask states where this is more rampant to ensure that the police help harassed couples. That's easily said, but how will it be ensured?

Should we have a separate law on honour killings? What will it say? Murder is illegal, whether for honour or not. So what are we talking about here?

The only way this problem can be addressed is through a mindset change. Someone should have challenged the order of the two Supreme Court judges who reduced Dilip Tiwari's sentence and the death penalty should have been restored.

Politicians have to come out unequivocally against khap panchayats and not entertain them at all. Naveen Jindal should have lost his Congress membership the day he asked a Times of India journalist who went to interview him on his support of khap panchayats whether her parents would allow her to marry someone from the same gotra.

Mindset changes don't come overnight. They take time. But laws and judicial activism also will not solve the problem overnight. It all needs to go hand in hand.