We have to live with contrary opinions

About a week ago, author-turned-columnist Chetan Bhagat wrote a piece in The Times of India that took the form of an open letter from a young Muslim to his community’s political and religious leaders. Of course, it was not a genuine letter — since Mr Bhagat is not Muslim — but was the author’s attempt to think on behalf of a middle-of-the-road mainstream Muslim who, no doubt, has yearnings and aspirations as any other Indian of his age and socio-economic background does.

The article evoked a lot of controversy. Among the more outlandish points of criticism was that, as a non-Muslim, Bhagat had no business speaking or even thinking on behalf of Muslims. Of course, this was not a serious argument and, indeed, was highly objectionable. If there is a debate and a frisson within Muslim society, every other Indian has a right to contribute to the discourse. If there is a point of disagreement within Hindu society, Indian Muslims or Christians for that matter have every right to an opinion and to making an intervention. That is the difference between a confessional society and an integrated one, built on a premise of mutual stakeholder-ship.

Having said that, what does one make of Bhagat’s piece itself and of his other writings on contemporary politics and societyIJ I have not read his books but have found his columns and arguments on television — including one show on which we both appeared — somewhat glib and superficial. This is undoubtedly a personal view and need not be shared by others. It is equally true that Bhagat’s columns probably represent a significant slice of middle-class opinion. This may not be a majority section but it is possibly a large enough group for anybody — social commentator or political practitioner — to take notice. If this surmise is correct, then Bhagat would appear to speak for a certain class of voters.

Many of Bhagat’s social and political interventions seem to be experiential in that they are rooted in society and life as he has felt them, and reckons he can empirically establish. It is difficult to entirely disagree with him. As he suggests, robust economic reform, a rolling back of the state from areas where it is not needed or is even a hindrance and a sustained period of high GDP growth is non-negotiable. Whatever else one may believe, this is absolutely necessary for resolving India’s problems, social or economic or political. Where one can perhaps disagree is not on the necessity of this model but its sufficiency. This is needed, but is this all that is neededIJ 

Even so, it is not as if Bhagat’s critics and proponents are bothered with details and finer points. like several others, he has been trapped in the Great Narendra Modi fault-line. Depending on how one sees it, his advocacy of Mr Modi as a potential Prime Minister has become his main attribute or his chief crime. However, does that either justify or efface everything he says and writesIJ There are issues here for both sides to ponder.

To Mr Modi’s supporters, Bhagat has become a curious mascot. Despite his socio-economic background, he has paradoxically evolved into an underdog taking on an intellectual establishment that is perceived as dominating the media, the opinion columns and general public discourse. This hostility for know-all “pointy-headed intellectuals” — to borrow George Wallace’s famous expression — is rooted in an anti-elitism that regards the voice of ‘real India’ as being muffled in the self-seeking echo chamber of New Delhi and its infrastructure of opinion making. To Mr Modi’s opponents, Bhagat is an arriviste who wades into complex issues he knows little about, and has an eye on the main chance.

Is there a middle ground, one where Bhagat’s opinion can be conceded as legitimate and limited to much more than an individual, but his pieces and interventions can be accused of lacking a rigourIJ To simply argue that anybody who attacks Bhagat is jealous of his best-selling books, his royalty cheques and his celebrity, is ridiculous and facile. Is every political opponent of Ms Smriti Irani a failed soap opera star and every critic of Mr Kapil Sibal a failed lawyerIJ 

On the other hand to not recognise that Bhagat’s essential positions have a resonance among sections of middle-class — as opposed to established-money — young people, reared in varied urban and smaller-town environments, is equally self-defeating. After all these people vote, and if they all vote in one direction the implications can be decisive. As such, far from labelling Bhagat the cure or the disease — he is neither — one should see him for what he is: a symptom. Deeper analyses would require understanding the social phenomenon he symptomises. 

At a personal level, it would help if Bhagat put in a little more effort into his columns and worked to establish, validate and back-up his line of argument. What could appear axiomatic to him may not be so to all his readers. As a persuader — and any columnist is at a fundamental level a persuader, even if he has no intention of being one — Bhagat would do well to complement his “stream of consciousness” approach with ideational heft. 

The better columnists do this — maybe all columnists don’t, but the better ones decidedly do. To expect a new entrant to aspire to notable benchmarks is entirely fair. After all, despite his immensely readable travelogues and renditions of popular history, William Dalrymple’s jejune foray into a political assessment of contemporary Afghanistan has been challenged. That aside, for all his early talent, Pankaj Mishra’s occasional op-eds and cussedly contrarian narratives of world history have not always impressed. 

Yet, Mr Dalrymple and Mr Mishra have a right to and will continue to make interventions on immediate political issues. So will Bhagat. We all have to live with that.

malikashok@gmail.com