The impact of socialist and liberal ideologies has been so great on the Indian intelligentsia that its members interpret political developments in the country largely in western terms. Once in a while a political scientist or sociologist speaks of the importance of caste as a factor in Indian politics. But this makes no difference to the thinking of the intelligentsia.
One difficulty in assessing the role of caste is that caste groups either do not function as cohesive entities or stop doing so as soon as they have moved up the social ladder by taking advantage of new educational and economic opportunities and by adapting themselves to the cultural mores of the better placed dominant groups.
The Reddis, the most affluent and influential class of landlords in Andhra, have, for instance, all along been divided into rival factions each of which has sought the support of other castes to get into power. The Nadars, on the other hand, maintained a high degree of unity so long as their community was socially and economically backward. Even the name they bear now is new: up to the 19th century they were known as Shanans and worked as agricultural workers and toddy tappers and were looked down upon as a low caste. But as its members overcame their social handicaps, acquired education and the right of entry into temples, moved up the economic ladder and became a powerful factor in the political life of the undivided Madras State they ceased to have the same interests and their ability to work as a coherent group in the political field began to decline. They have by now become amenable to appeals based on class interests and ideology.
Intricate Maze
We are thus faced with an extremely complicated situation in which class as well as caste considerations operate at the same time. Religious, linguistic and regional factors make the confusion worse confounded. All in all students of Indian affairs are required to find their way through an intricate maze. They can find useful guidance in the fascinating study The Modernity of Tradition by Lloyd I Rudolph and Susanne Hoeber Rudolph (The University of Chicago Press, Chicago and London). It is a pity that this work is not better known here. It is now being brought out in a cheaper edition by Orient Longmans. No serious student of Indian affairs can afford to miss it.
India has been experiencing three kinds of political mobilisation: vertical, horizontal and differential. As everywhere else in the world at a comparable stage of political development, traditional notables mobilise political support in local societies that are organised on the basis of rank, mutual dependence and the legitimacy of traditional authority. In rural India which accounts for 82 per cent of the population, the traditional elite consists almost exclusively of the leaders of the dominant castes. The strategy of vertical mobilisation remains viable for them until “dependents, tenants and clients become sufficiently politicised to be mobilised by ideological appeals to class or community interests and sentiments”.
Horizontal mobilisation, on the other hand, involves the marshaling of popular support by class or community leaders and their organisations. This challenges the “vertical solidarities and structures of traditional societies” irrespective of the nature of the appeal. It is the character of horizontal mobilisation that accounts for the difference between political modernisation in India and the West. While in our case a central structure for this purpose has been a transformed version of caste, class has played the dominant role in this type of mobilisation in Europe. Caste associations have enabled their members to pursue the same secular goals of social mobility, political power and economic advantage as political parties, trade unions and other kinds of associations have done in the West. This point deserves special attention.
Ideology
Finally, differential mobilisation is the handiwork of political parties. Their appeal to “viable but internally differentiated communities” is based on ideology as well as sentiments and interests.
As the Rudolphs put it: “Parties may appeal to voters directly as individuals or indirectly through organised groups to which they belong. Direct appeals to individual voters may stress ideology or issues, on the one hand, or community identification through caste, on the other. These appeals may be contradictory or complementary. Whether or not they are in conflict is in a considerable measure dependent upon the size of the constituency and the number, homogeneity and cohesiveness of its community components. At the level of the State Assembly constituency, they are often complementary and at the village and ward levels frequently so. In constituencies in which one caste or community is numerically predominant or socially dominant, all parties, regardless of ideological, cultural or interest orientation, are more likely to choose candidates from it.”
This helps to explain the decisive importance of the caste factor in local and State elections and the influence that the traditional elite managed to acquire in the Congress in the States when Mr Nehru, with his socialist leanings, was still at the helm in New Delhi. If Parliament has been relatively protected from casteist influences it is because of the size of its constituencies and the heterogeneity of the electorate.
It is also important to note that “when an organised caste or community is relatively homogeneous and cohesive and its common interests are still diffuse and varied, it is likely to form a partisan attachment to a particular party and even to form and operate a political party of its own. As it becomes differentiated by class interest and by differences in education, income, occupation and cultural style and as the range of its members’ common interests narrows in consequence, it is likely to move from a strategy of partisan attachment to a non-partisan strategy of relations with all parties in which political calculations that relate its interests to political possibilities predominate.”
The Rudolphs provide a remarkable wealth of detailed information in support of this assessment from various parts of the country. But unfortunately their work ends there. It fails to spell out the consequences of the interplay of these forces.
It should however be fairly obvious that the Congress under Mr. Nehru was able to provide political stability because it could contain all the three forms of political mobilisation. In spite of the limited measure of land reforms which it undertook in the early years of independence, it could count on the support of a sizable section of the traditional elite in the countryside because of various factors. The Congress had mobilised the upper peasantry before independence; it possessed a charismatic leader in Mr. Nehru and an extensive party network; it could appeal to the self-interest of the landed elite because it had patronage to distribute in the form of loans, irrigation facilities, power, and roads; and it provided access to the still prestigious bureaucracy. This elite provided the party access to “vote banks.”
Similarly, castes on the move also generally thought it profitable to operate through the Congress because that assured them access to political power and economic and social advantages that flowed from it.
Nehru’s Role
The strength of the Congress organisation, the ability of the Central leadership to impose a sense of coherence, unity and direction in spite of the bitter factional feuds at State and district levels, its success in assuring a steady rate of economic growth and Mr. Nehru’s prestige and personality, were undoubtedly factors of considerable importance in the maintenance of political stability for two decades after independence. But this stability was also the function of a relatively low level of political mobilisation in the first decade of freedom.
After the 1957 general election the Congress continued to enjoy the advantage of the previous momentum and the monopoly of power at the Centre and in the States. It began to falter in 1962 under the shock of the Chinese aggression. The 1967 general election ended the party’s monopoly of power and with it political stability in large parts of the country. Where do we go from here?
The popular reply is that with the end of one-party dominance the country has entered the era of coalitions and that the recent split in the Congress has paved the way for a left-right polarisation. But can the various forms of political mobilisation provide the social base for this kind of differentiation and consolidation?
If the experience of the last three years is any indication, the answer is in the negative. No coalition of any description has proved stable and 16 State governments have been toppled so far by defections. These defections have been and deserve to be condemned by the generally accepted tests of political morality. But they reflect a deeper reality – the introduction of bargaining and market mechanism in politics. However deplorable, this is only to be expected when so fragmented a society as India’s moves away from its traditional moorings and when literally thousands of castes (jatis) enter the political fray in search of tangible goals.
Up to the time of the introduction of adult franchise in 1950 and for years later the Indian political system was to a large extent autonomous of society. During the struggle for freedom the western-educated elite had no great difficulty in imposing its will on society because the latter was relatively passive. This remained true even when Gandhiji shook it a little. The momentum of the pre-independence period, the strength of the Congress organisation and the prestige of the governmental and party leadership enabled the elite to dominate society in the first two decades of independence, specially at the Centre. But as the people have become politicised through the spread of education, economic growth, improved communications and increasing secularisation, the top political elite has lost its autonomy and the political system has become subject to the same kind of fragmentation which has characterised Hindu society through the centuries. Only a strong leadership commanding the support of a well-knit party machine can produce a measure of cohesiveness in this dangerously fluid and shifting situation.
The Times of India, 11 March 1970