THE RISE OF THE MOB
Lynchings and mob violence have escalated dramatically. A new narrative of nationalism, rejection of dissent and no compassion for ‘transgressors’ have created a dangerous new public emotion
Organised mob violence is not new to India. But at the heart of the current wave of lynching is a new political emotion promoted by a craftily-nurtured project. This new emotion targets those who dissent from the restrictions imposed by selfstyled conscience keepers of “society”. The mood of the nation, at present, is to explain its dealings with one another in the religious language of righteousness and sin. For example, eating beef is sin. Public display of love is a sin – unless it is towards your nation.
This new emotion has its roots in outrage and hatred and its closest ancestor is the honour-based eye-for-an-eye kind of emotion of ancient times.
HOW DID WE GET HERE?
It is not as if lynching was never reported in India. According to an October 27, 1985 report in The Statesman, Communist-led West Bengal witnessed a wave of such violence in the Eighties. These were particularly on account of the public losing faith in the law and order machinery and deciding to take matters in their own hands. But the present wave is very different. The Dadri lynching, as it has come to be known, after the killing of an elderly Muslim man Mohammad Akhlaq in September 2015, was the beginning. Akhlaq’s crime was that the ‘conscience-keepers’ thought he had beef in his house. A sin according to them, which ought to be punished. The message was clear: Any act, public or private, which was beyond the culturallysanctioned walls erected in an ancient era, would be disapproved by the defenders of this new project.
HOW DID SOCIETY CONCEDE THIS SPACE?
A democratic nation committed to upholding human dignity and following the Constitution is an effective deterrent to lawless tribalism. But the participants of this new ‘nation-building project’ emphasise that legal recourse based on Constitutionalism is long-winded and time-consuming. Faced with the choice between the futilities of liberal (also read alien) principles based on the Constitution and defending the current project of saving society from a perceived imminent threat, the instant system appears preferable. Vigilantism has now gained legitimacy.
Writer-academic Pratap Bhanu Mehta, has said: “These kinds of incidents always inhabited the realm of religious intolerance zone. Now it has entered a Constitutional and political realm and is finding acceptance. This is the first time we are seeing mainstreaming of such philosophy.”
This new attitude has been encouraged by public rhetoric, by the attitude of political leaders, and must be coercively imposed. A democratic progressive nation has a Constitutional duty to protect individual freedom – but this is in direct collision with the current project. In this new national project, individual self-expression and dissent are strongly discouraged and “moral control” and unanimity are strongly encouraged.
The narrative of an ideal society is based on a misplaced pride in ancient glory and a narrow interpretation of “Indian culture”, not on the Constitutional reflection of pluralism or its idea of what an ideal society should be.
How do the vigilantes prevent their new ‘nation-building project’ from being derailed?
CREATING A NATION WITH NO DISSENT
By creating a nation with no dissent. This is where the precursor to street vigilantism has played an important role. On social media, ‘mob lynching’ over dissent or expression of free speech has been going on for a long time – and still continues. But the theatre has now shifted to the street.
This was facilitated by a slyly-constructed narrative of nationalism – a hybrid of patriotism and Hindutva.
The symbols of patriotism are powerful tools for arousing emotions once the public is able to relate to them. These symbols can be reinforced by repetition.
In order to promote a new public attitude, a narrative was built around symbols that attracted such sentiments: the Army, a symbol of a just institution which therefore cannot be criticised; the Cow, a sacred symbol equivalent to your mother, which must be protected at all costs, and the National Anthem, a symbol of pride, which must be respected. A violation of these symbols can evoke extreme reactions of public emotion which are sanctioned by the tacit support of the political leadership.
Besides promoting these symbols of patriotism, the new narrative has been successful in promoting a stereotype of enemies of patriotism. It is tapping into the historical conflict between two communities, the Hindus and Muslims, and has painted the minority community as less patriotic. But the real success of this narrative is tainting dissent as anti-national. For instance, since the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) sedition row, there have been many reports of people heckling students from this institution. When extreme emotions are aroused in the public, anyone who fits the anti-national profile becomes the target. So Pehlu Khan was lynched to death for transporting cattle – but his Hindu driver was spared.
These public emotions have not been discovered yesterday as we saw with the example of West Bengal in the 1980s. But condemnation and action by the State stabilised them. However, by crippling dissent and blurring the principle of separation of church and state, such interventions have been made virtually impossible. Political followers and the bureaucracy are quick to pick up signals from those leading them. Recall the following images. In February 2016, a political activist came to hear the trial of JNU students in Delhi’s Patiala House, and was beaten by lawyers as the police looked on. A year later, in May this year, in Jharkhand, a man, face covered in blood, asked for his life to be spared with folded hands as a mob brutally attacked him in the presence of the police. In both incidents, the state machinery became a mute spectator.
Pratap Bhanu Mehta says, “Condemning these violent incidents even for the sake of it can influence the followers on the ground, which is lately absent.”
Silence or condolence messages with riders such as “not all cow vigilantes are bad” only reconfirm that the political leadership is unsympathetic towards disrespect to the newly energised symbols of patriotism. Compassion is an act of cowardice in such situations. Perhaps this explains why vigilantes or mobs now record their violent acts. It is a reminder: no compassion for those who disrespect the new ‘nation-building’ process.
As the list of symbols and ‘enemies’ of these symbols increases every day, the virulent lynch culture seems here to stay – at least in the near future.