We cannot talk of Indian democracy in isolation: all democracies rise and fall in response to the global political climate. Since the Second World War, the United States of America has promoted democracy and capitalism as State policies (even as it propped up dictatorships). This wasn’t all that different from Islam spreading through Arab domination, or Christianity piggybacking on European colonists. Except that unlike Islam or Christianity, democracy is not a belief system one can convert to. Nor are democracies intuitive; they require liberal, tolerant cultures and institutions that take up enormous resources. So without a superpower to champion it, fewer nations will opt for democracy.
Authoritarian systems, lacking freedoms, are less complex and, hence, easier to manage. Democratic systems, which tolerate diversity and dissent, offer minorities political equality but also increase competition, conflict, and complexity. This makes them harder to govern. Alas, we who have lived in democracies don’t understand the nature of the system that serves us. Democracies are clumsy and complex. Here, thus, are my Seven Laws of Complex Political Systems —
i. Simple, predictable systems are more stable than diverse, complex systems.
ii. Any increase in diversity, freedoms or rights increases bureaucratic complexity.
iii. Any economic, technological, or societal change increases complexity.
iv. The greater the complexity, the greater the resources needed to manage the system.
v. The more resources needed, the more likely the system will run out of them.
vi. Systems depleted of resources will inevitably weaken or collapse.
vii. Hence, the golden rule of a sustainable system is ‘minimise complexity’.
Unfortunately, Indian democracy is not only a noisy mess but by treating it as an extractive good, like an akshaya patra, we’ve also infinitely increased its complexity and weakened it.
Constitutions, institutions or elections do not make a democracy. A democracy requires a citizenry capable of distinguishing truth from fiction, tolerating ambiguity, and sacrificing for the larger good. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed (Democracy in America), the system worked because of people’s “mores” — habits of mind. Americans felt that they belonged to one nation and actively participated in public life, something that is no longer true. India’s collectivist culture has never been congenial to a liberal mindset.
‘People’s power’ alone cannot establish democracies; it can only be created if the powerful (and the majority) acquiesce to share power with the weak and the minorities. When these groups cease to see value in democracy, the system fails. Donald Trump’s greatest gift has been to give us a reality check. He’s shown that progressive civil society doesn’t have any real power. Without lavish government funding, professors have no power; without secure jobs, government employees have no power; without tax exemptions, civil society itself disappears. Real power is substantive, coming from the ability to control access to resources (wealth, land, factories, the military). Political power is procedural, emanating from participation in democratic systems (bureaucracy, media, civil society).
Having mistaken the source of its power, civil society has created an adversarial relationship with those who wield substantive and real power. It is not wise to test the limits of procedural power lest those with real power take it away. Civic unrest always increases complexity, raising the cost of governing, which forces those who foot the bill (government and industry) to lose their enthusiasm for democracy. Sometimes the people themselves rebel: the damage that the India Against Corruption movement did to Manmohan Singh’s government should be a cautionary tale — the people replaced a democratic government with an illiberal and authoritarian one. Likewise, the Black Lives Matter and pro-Palestine movements led to a right-wing backlash in the US and Europe.
In a democracy, all change is incremental, requiring persuasion and trade-offs. Those who refuse to compromise mistake obstinacy for a principled stance. Likewise, there are no enemies in a democracy, only differing perspectives that require understanding and accommodating. Democracies are tenuous systems, with elections and policy changes making long-term planning difficult. The need for consensus also limits society’s ability to respond quickly to economic or geopolitical shifts.
It is entirely reasonable to be angry about democracy’s failure to end poverty or injustice. Unfortunately, there are no fail-proof political or economic systems. If you want a revolution, you better hope that your side wins. If you want a democracy, are you willing to make painful tradeoffs? How will a poor nation choose among irrigation, electrification, health, or weaponry? If you don’t have money left over for education, how will you develop a mature citizenry, without which you go back to square one?
As a long-time democracy watcher, I believe there will be four types of nation in the late 21st century. (i) Secure, wealthy, authoritarian States with minimal complexity (China and the United Arab Emirates?); (ii) Secure, wealthy, democratic nations with minimal complexity (the Netherlands, Denmark?); (iii) Insecure, poor, despotic States with unmanageable complexity (Sudan, Somalia, Democratic Republic of the Congo?); Insecure vassal States irrespective of wealth or complexity (Myanmar, Taiwan, Canada?).
And India? Unless we stop having elections — or lose a ruinous war with China or Pakistan — we should be able to stumble along as a corrupt, messy, and illiberal democracy. Our adversaries (China and Pakistan), neighbours (Nepal and Bangladesh), and half-hearted allies will always have us watching our backs. Meanwhile, poverty and lack of education will prevent our people from participating actively in the civic space, except during elections.
Our democratic instincts tell us we should defeat the Bharatiya Janata Party, ban the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, abolish oligarchies, and dismantle the patriarchy. However, democracy doesn’t happen by diktat. We cannot wish away our ‘bigoted’ fellow citizens any more than we can our oligarchs. We have no choice but to work creatively with the crooked timber of humanity. Unless you want to sharpen your pitchfork.
Ashok Panikkar’s book, Ten Lies That Killed Democracy, is based on his 30 years as a consultant on conflict, diversity, and democracy