Statue of Udadevi
This was to continue the discussion here, but became too long for a comment.
The dalit women heroes of the 1857 Rebellion have become symbols of dalit assertion and pride. They have become the icons of the castes to which they belong, and it is become a political compulsion of various political parties especially the BSP, to use their myths to politically mobilize the members of these castes. In Dalit political discourse, myths of different castes are also being used to consolidate all the dalit castes and create a homogenous metanarrative. One such legendary character who is claimed to have played a significant role in 1857 Rebellion alongside Begum Hazrat Mahal of Lucknow and who has become the icon of the Pasi community, but whose aura encompasses all the Dalit castes, is Udadevi. She is one of the hero of the 1857 Dalit heroes who has been taken over by the BSP to develop the image of Mayavati, who is claimed to be her incarnation.
Richard Connerney recounts her story:
….. There British forces met desperate resistance of rebels who fortified the position. In the sanguineous battle that followed, over 2,000 rebels and many soldiers lost their lives in hand-to-hand combat.
After the British overran Sikandarbag, an officer noted that many of the British casualties had bullet wounds indicating steep, downward trajectory. Suspecting that a sniper remained hidden in the pipal tree, British officers fired at the tree and dislodged a rebel who fell to the ground with a thud, dead. Further investigation revealed that the rebel was, in fact, a low-caste woman named Udadevi Pasi, who had donned men’s clothing to participate in the uprising.
Back to issue at hand, that is, iconization of Mayavati, Badri Narayan tells it like this:
There were cut outs, posters and hoardings showing Udadevi standing beside Mayavati, at roadsides and important sites before the 2004 parliamentary elections. The story of her brave deeds and heroic achievements during the 1857 Rebellion were narrated by different BSP leaders at election rallies in various places around Lucknow where her myth was popular, to highlight the glorious history of dalits. While these stories were narrated mainly at rallies that were held in Pasi hamlets to arouse the caste identity of the Pasis, they were also narrated during rallies held collectively for all dalit castes in particular regions adjoining Lucknow. The telling and retelling of the Myth of Udadevi transforming into an icon for dalit assertion that is being used by the BSP for the political mobilization of the dalits.
The part that is fascinating and heart wrenching is the way the image of Udadevi was created.
It was created in 1953 as part of the NBRI’s initiative to build a museum based on the history of Lucknow, A painter was commissioned to paint her image based on the description of Udadevi in the narratives collected by the botanist N. N Kaul. Following this a cement statute was made based on the image in NBRI, this was not made well and soon started cracking. Unskilled laborers were called in to fill in the cracks but in the process the image got distorted. Later when BSP wanted to build her statues and print her portrait in posters they picked up this distorted image. That is why the statue at NBRI grossly differs from the roadside statues.
This is so poignant to me, along with a burden of forced amnesia, which completely eliminates the memory of the role the dalits played in the Independence struggles and continue playing in nation building activities, is the tucked in history we have contributed. When a chance presented itself for the resurrection of one such memory; poor choice, material and attitude bequeaths us a distorted image! These stories also reminds each one of us, of other heroes, known only to a small handful, often only in oral form. They forcibly make us conscious of all our current heroes who have kept the struggle going on with such meagre resources, but with unending determination. As, are we the internet accessing ‘other voices’ in every way are also ‘heroes’ with our own set of anxieties, confronting our own set of unique hostilities, we continue to extend upon the history of resistance. The additional responsibility we carry, comes with the knowledge that we are doing so on a full stomach, unlike many of our counterparts in Dalitwadas in villages and city slums. Stories in rural India of young people handwriting pamphlets, xeroxing copies and delivering them on foot and cycles, can be heard everywhere. Most often done after a long day at work, in dimly lit huts, shops and under streetlights, often in the face of hostility, quite often on hungry stomachs. We can never lose our hard won ability to question incessantly every notion that hinders the possibility of well being of all our people and we do that by questioning ourselves in the same light.
If I gain access to resources how am I going to use it? I have so many issues to address. Historical amnesia is one of them. How do I prioritize?
Statues are important. They are symbolic in a million ways, most especially in the stories that remain untold. To have all our stories come alive we need resources, however, access to resource remains elusive. The rare times when access is possible, balance and forethought is needed while attempting to utilize it. Fear that this access will disappear should never lead us into paths which lets us forget the spirit of our dead heroes, for they did what they did, for their progeny –us. Or overdosing on ideas that might let us negate the tireless efforts of our living heroes in dalitwadas, slums and offices. It would be the most painful hurt we would deliver to the memories of the past and efforts of the present, if we started to transform into them , in thought or action.
Image: from cover of booklet 1857 A.D Kee Amar Shaeed, Veerangana Udadevi (The Brave Udadevi, immortal martyr of 1857 A.D. )
Sources: 1) The Upside-down tree, Richard Connerney.
2) Women Heroes and Dalit Assertion in North India, culture, identity and politics, Badri Narayan.
I disagree
Within 24 hours I have disagreed with at least 3 people online, nothing new, I usually withdraw from such scenarios, but this is important to me. So, why do I not buy the well argued posts in support of Mayavati’s actions by Kuffir, RW and Prabin, not because I don’t value, the in the face attitude and literally in their lives -life size statues reminding the upper castes that times are a changing, no not at all, I love it. I just happen to want more, much much more from her.
Consider the bahujans as an ecosystem. All links within this system are important. We are feeding both from our weakest life stories and from our strongest, as a leverage to break free from the ecological niches that were not our natural choices as free humans. How do the actions of the strongest influence the rest? Undoubtedly, Mayavati is the most powerful factor -the energy source for the ecosystem. The energy has to sustain a large family over a long period, it has to be utilized effectively and creatively. If certain activities seem to use up energy that should and could be better utilized then that has to be considered. Even the minutest amount in the fragile system could mean a possible strengthening of weak links. Arguments of, it is comparatively little energy as against energy spent for similar activities by forces outside of this ecosystem are null. They can afford it, we cannot. This is the only source we have. Agreed, she has earned her place to decide how she will dispense her resources. But can I not worry about it? Surely I don’t have to justify against what I essentially see as better spent elsewhere even to enforce symbolism?
I have a long wish list for her. But for starters, a Mayavati’ TV channel would be nice – an employment generating resource, symbolic to boot, can be used for elections, for development projects, will have the reach to touch every dalit in the country, get the bahujan the media slice that we need so bad. This may be more energy requiring but this is useful yet symbolic model that has the potential for reproduction, by not so strong energy providers along the system, another minister might aspire for a radio station, another for a newspaper to give voice to the silenced. Sure, this will not have the irritation value for the upper caste that a statue has, but they are outside this ecosystem. One needs to strengthen the links within the system, our energies should be directed towards this, and not be allowed to dissipate trying to weaken the links of the external factors. This is the need of the hour. When all the internal links are strengthened sufficiently the synergy of the ecosystem will force the external links to regroup in different, more acceptable forms without us expending much energy on that. IMHO
PS: I am totally grateful that a large number of artisans have benefitted from Mayavati’s statue building exercise, but I want to dream about their children as TV executives, media people, journalists and other professionals and NOT as artisans building endless stone and plaster dalit iconic structures.
E3 network
From the Seed.
Four years ago in Santa Monica, California, a group of economists, philanthropists, and NGO representatives gathered to discuss the state of the environmental movement. What they found was that while environmental advocates were able to make arguments on scientific and legal grounds, they were missing the third leg of the stool: economics. As more and more environmental decisions were being made on the basis of economics, this expert gap was turning into a severe hindrance.
In the Indian context, I always wonder about think tanks, what could they be? Anyway, people who are interested to know that the poor in the US sometimes figure in these ‘thoughts’ please read the Seed Magazine’s interview of the E3 network chief, an excerpt is here:
Seed: What makes this different from a traditional think tank?
KS: If we modeled ourselves as an environmental think tank, we’d be doing a lot of in-house research and publishing under a brand name. But we see ourselves as an organizer and a catalyst for research. Almost everyone in the network has a “day job”—many are academics, some work for think tanks, some have government positions. We thought our economists would have more of an impact if they represented different institutions across the country, whereas think tanks tend to become associated with a particular ideological bent—“Of course they said that, that’s the American Enterprise Institute.” With the network, we’re bringing 100 different economists to bear on different issues. And they don’t always agree. More.
mist and mountain tops
Trekking through Adirondack Mountains dotted with pristine lakes innocuously named; round lake, long lake, I am one of those visitors who sparsely people these mountains along with researchers, fishermen, bikers, campers, deer and moose antler hunters. The gadgets that get us to the mountaintop and on our persons could fund small businesses in cost. Each and every one of us know the laws; natural and human, and none will trespass or need reminders, we are in sync with nature here, in awe we tip toe. Should an accident happen, a rescue team would fly in with a response time of a few minutes to save life and limb! We are all insured!
And my mind is filled with thoughts and visions of my life long love affair with the Western Ghats, except Gujarat, I have trekked in forests trails in every state that the Ghats guard. The columns of women in Kotagiri nipping tea leaves, misty morning run-in’s with families picking eucalyptus leaves in Coonoor, young girls selling peanut chikis in Lonavla, hearing the sound of woodcutters axes in Karwar, men weeding coffee plantations in Mercara, the lambhadi women from whom I bought multicolored bead chains in Katraj, and so much more fills my heart.
Misty heights with
Round, long, blue
Placid and Mirror
Lakes.
Earth’s own story
Chiseled in mysterious depths
A mammoth come and gone
Known only in bones
A sanguine note
Here ‘the forest never dies’
Over there,
Muddy rivulets for parched
Throats and roots,
Hastening
The undressing of mountains.
Slipping memories of Ghatis.
Bundled upon their dark heads
Twigs, barks, gums, tubers and
Leaves stitched with sticks.
No buyers.
Yet. A silent cry
‘This forest is ours’
Ghatis: a derogatory term in Marathi that refers to ‘uncultured’ mountain people of Western Ghats.
How does one reconcile conservation of nature over here and over there? At what cost does the civilized world protect nature’s beauty and wealth? The remnants of the original inhabitants of the Adirondacks are now visible in a few name placards; Iroquois lane, Pale face mountain, a fraudulent treaty in 1797, is supposed to have robbed the Iroquois of 60,000,000 acres, that now form a conserved park. Even this courtesy of name placards will not be accorded over there, should the fight for forests in all the developing countries be finally lost to ‘cultured’ people over there and here.
These thoughts apart, breathing the clean mountain air remains the most exhilarating experience ever and makes me homesick to the core, I am going to grab a song that I used to play in my hostel room – borrowed from a friend with a lovely voice, it would be better still if I could find the thumri she used to sing for me on rainy days, while we sat on the doorstep with our feet in the pouring rain, dreaming of treks and camps and waiting for the rain to give just a little, so we could walk over to the outdoor canteen for some hot chai and dream some more.
Silence and Manhood
Sexual violence is incomprehensible to me and as such I must avoid thinking aloud on this subject as it has been outside of my personal experience or study. But I do want to understand what is that I perceive and process while reading, hearing and seeing images of sexual violence, particularly related to dalit women.
My involvement with dalit issues keeps sending me down paths that invariably vortex into sexual violence. There are surprisingly few texts that have researched the sexual politics of dalits. Though the words ‘dalit women and sexual abuse’ are almost synonymous in the popular media as well as in serious writings.
I am particularly intrigued by a couple of paragraphs from two books that dwell at some length on this topic in different ways, one by Vidyut Bhagwat and the other by Kalpana and Vasantha Kannabhiran on dalit women.
One paragraph relates to the supposed ‘silence’ of dalit women and the other to the supposed ‘manhood’ of lower caste men.
Vidyut’s observation of dalit women in rural and urban centers.
First she states:
Women who are part of toiling masses are leading their life as beasts of burden and often as victims of dominant caste onslaught. It is but natural they are mute.
And then wonders:
But dalit women in urban centres taking care of homes and children at times teaching in schools and colleges or most of the time playing the role of housewives have not yet come out. We do not know how they perceive themselves and the world around them. Particularly, wives of political leaders, professors, doctors, executives are strangely silent.
In the categorical statement “it is but natural they are mute” is she talking of verbal silence, silence in the popular language or is she saying that there is no reaction to circumstances and resistance to injustice and violence?
For me, verbal silence can sometimes be very loud and menacing. I have used it to get my way through many passive-aggressive battles quite effectively. However, in those instances, the ones at whom it was aimed at astutely perceived my silence. No outsider could have probed the silent struggle and be able to give weightage to the outcome. In that respect what does Vidyut’s observation of ‘mute’ actually mean?
Mute because they don’t revolt physically, individually or in groups? For that I ask you to look at the image of Lalgarh protest here, and does one see resistance? Is it silent or loud, armed resistance or a democratic protest?
In this image I do see and hear a loud silence. Media being a beast of burden, toiling to keep the governments happy, it is but natural they are mute. Academicians, liberals, feminists, activists in designer khadi are also strangely silent. Should one wonder about this?
The protest intermixed with many other issues was also about physical abuse of both men and women.
To read, toiling masses as silent masses is extremely simplistic. How does one reduce a human being as complex as the next one, to something like an unreacting mass of living cells? That is an incorrect analogy, even cultures of cells in a petridish will react to adversity; resist, learn, adapt and by these actions over a period of time they will change the effect of the adversity or die out.
Now lets take her wonderment at urban dalit women’s silence:
Does the movement from rural to urban and becoming professionals and wives of professionals guarantee articulation? If this is a general rule or observation with all women, then we truly have to wonder why this is so with dalit women? How is the perceived silence among rural women connected to the urban women’s silence (again perceived)?
Could it be the memories of rural oppression persists even as they move out into a different cultural, political and economic space? Is there a collective memory operating among dalit women about oppression and methods of resistance, and how deep and complex is it?
The sensitivity and should I say the caliber to read into the psyche of the dalit woman and her response to sexual violence is missing, evident in such blanket statements.
Lets go over to the Kannabhirans reading of the Chilakurti atrocity:
Gender within caste society is thus defined and structured in such a manner that the ‘manhood’ of the caste is defined both by the degree of control men exercise over women and the degree of passivity of the women of the caste. By the same argument, demonstrating control by humiliating women of another caste is a certain way of reducing the ‘manhood’ of those castes. This is why. While Muthamma was paraded naked in the streets of Chilakurti, the men of her caste who unable to bear the sight covered their eyes, were derided by the aggressors who said, ‘open your eyes. Are there no men amongst you? This insult is double edged. On the one hand gender is defined by the capacity for aggression and appropriation of the other. On the other hand the lower-caste man could only cover his eyes because the structure of relations in caste society castrates him through the expropriation of his women.
This on the face of it seems like pretty sound explanation, so with a magic wand if we push the upper caste down the ladder, upper caste men lose their ‘manhood’ when their women are appropriated and humiliated, right? Any caste that finds itself at the bottom of things, will experience it, any human aggregation that finds itself stripped of its protection from civil society; such as during war and unrest, experiences this.
Substitute caste in that paragraph with war, and nothing changes.
The uniqueness of caste being that the forces keeps it in a war like exploitative situation. It must be the longest war in the history of mankind, and with that -the longest history of resistance. Dalits did not die out, that is the proof of their resistance and also proof of the pace at which the aggression keeps evolving.
The Chilakurti analysis is not specific to the dalit man being unable to protect and the dalit women being appropriated and humiliated, I see it as a general explanation for any man and woman, high or low caste, Asian, African or Caucasian finding themselves pitted against a horrific oppressor. The burly Scotsman would have shut his eyes when his clanswomen were humiliated by the English. Any man, anywhere loses his ‘manhood’. Any woman. anywhere becomes ’silent’ just arrive at the right concoction of factors that lead up to to it. A variation of what happens between Tutsis and Hutus, Serbs and Bosnians, Gujarat Hindus and Muslims. The amazing aspect of dalit atrocities is that it does not peak, it remains as a constant background noise.
I learn nothing from these observations and analysis in these books except a lot of recycled academic verbiage. Articulation delivered through unseeing eyes and deafened ears only indicates the comfort of safe jobs and privilege of the authors.
So does it matter what gets written about dalit women in dusty academic books? Yes, it does, as one can see bits and pieces are taken out from these books and find their way into the public sphere, extended by journalists who attach these sentences to their daily bread articles on atrocities. And I run into variations of these statements by loud ‘feminists’ on the web routinely. Tiresome and mediocre! Repeated with such conviction and surety, that I loathe the thought of a dialog with them. Another instance of silence, perhaps?
May I gently suggest, please turn your weak analytical skills and the light on the perpetuators of the evil. They require reformation.
We will describe ourselves. Leave it to us.
Image: Sanhati website
Sources: a) Dalit Women in India: Issues and perspective. b) De-Eroticizing Assault: Essays on Modesty, Honour and Power.
Who is seeing red?
And why? read here
I guess at some future time a few write ups will appear in academic journals, maybe even a Ph.D thesis, with Lalgarh as an example, having plenty of explanations of how women’s movements never get recognized. First, will this be considered as an expression of resistance by Indian women? Will this get the tag of a feminist struggle? Will it get anchored as a turning point in the history of women’s movements in India? Or does this need a facebook group for educated non-tribal women warriors to attempt understanding this moment, to celebrate this expression of resistance? Or does this not have any bearing to the rest of the Indian women? Whatever, it does not matter to these adivasi women what academcians, media and bloggers like me think about it. But I desperately want this to be recorded for the present and future generations of women; the dalits, the adivasis, lower castes and women around the world. This is the first time I feel a deep regret for opting to study natural science and not the social sciences.
————-
Dealing with bow and arrow
June 20, 2009. By Latha Jishnu, Business Standard
The views of the Lalgarh siege are largely determined by what the media considers the essence of the confrontation. We have seen pictures of torched CPI(M) buildings with the trademark hammer and sickle going up in flames, Maoists (angry villagers?) on the rampage, a chilling shot of a corpse outside the party office, the paramilitary forces in action — in combat positions and clean-up operations (men being dragged out of homes and taken into custody). Fundamentally, these tell a story of an uprising that is being brought under control by the heavy hand of the security forces nearly eight months after it started, a small battle that may be won in the many insurgencies that shake India.
But there is a more striking image that merits closer attention — of a huge rally of peasant women on November 7, 2008. They are dressed in colourful saris, hair neatly pulled back in buns, their dark faces determined and unsmiling. Most of them are wielding bow and arrow, a few with arrows at the ready. Others have axes slung across their shoulders, as is the wont of tribal folk, as they march on the Lalgarh police station.
Who are these women? Yes, we know these are women from Lalgarh who were incensed when men of their village were arrested randomly after Maoists had ambushed a convoy of the West Bengal chief minister just a few days earlier. Most of the angry villagers have banded themselves under the banner of the Lalgarh People’s Committee against Police Atrocities, which seems a fairly straightforward description of their cause. But they have all been dubbed Maoists now by officialdom and the media, even if ideology is far from being the spur that drove them to take on the state.
Take the case of the Dongria Khonds who managed to make their way to the Belamba village in Kalahandi district of Orissa for a public hearing in April on Vedanta’s plans to expand their aluminum refinery to the world’s largest such facility. Most of them were not allowed to speak — the brute force of the state aligned with corporate power, managed to keep them out. The Adivasis are fighting to retain their sacred mountain, and the source of amazing natural bounty that keeps them from the hungry maws of the bulldozers seeking the rich bauxite deposits in Niyamgiri. The clashes began six years ago and are set to become more confrontational when the mining work starts. Soon, the Maoists/Naxalites will come to their aid, or the tribal people will themselves be dubbed Maoists.
The point here is, does 21st-century India, determinedly pushing for higher and higher growth rates, understand the women with the bows and arrows, or the hill people with a radically different perspective on life? Does Lalgarh provide some pointers to what fuels the Naxalite/Maoist insurgencies across 125 districts of the country? The answer is yes and no. Although such struggles are fuelled by different causes, there are some fairly well-known reasons why the extremist movement is burgeoning. They draw their support from the deprived and dispossessed. To start with, one can be fairly certain that the Lalgarh women who are said to be Maoist supporters if not Maoists themselves, are predominantly Dalit or Adivasi. As such they are likely to have faced various forms of oppression, and been denied justice along with social, legal and political rights. They are also likely to be among the poorest strata.
This is the analysis of the report of an expert group set up by the Planning Commission in 2006 which submitted its report in April 2008. ‘Development Challenges in Extremist-Affected Areas’, a 95-page report prepared by a group of administrators with experience of dealing with extremism, social scientists and human rights activists, is an excellent delineation of the causes of alienation, some well-known and others that give a fresh perspective on the issue. The report says it found some common aspects in its study of the 125 Naxal-influenced districts.
The main support for the Naxalite movement, it points out, comes from Dalits and Adivasis, who comprise about a fourth of India’s population and usually in areas where there are high levels of rural distress among SCs and STs. And predictably, the report listed land issues, internal displacement from industrialisation, the growing hordes of the project-affected, as other contributory factors. But it also touched upon the class divide that makes even the best policy prescriptions futile.
“It is a matter of common observation that the inequalities between classes, between town and country, and between the upper castes and the underprivileged communities are increasing. That this has potential for tremendous unrest is recognised by all. But somehow policy prescriptions presume otherwise. As the responsibility of the state for providing equal social rights recedes in the sphere of policymaking, we have two worlds of education, two worlds of health, two worlds of transport and two worlds of housing, with a gaping divide in between.”
It’s a stark truth that the newly-enlightened government of Manmohan Singh, which harps on inclusive growth, should not ignore. Clearly, it would be extremely difficult for the largely urban and Western-educated ruling class—the current UPA government has the largest number of MPs who studied in American and British universities — who are also among the richest in the country (300 crorepatis in the Lok Sabha, mostly businessmen) to relate to axe-wielding women who seek justice and honour in the rough backwoods of the country. And it matters little what the political persuasion of the rulers is. States ruled by parties as different from each other (or perhaps not) as the Congress, the BJP, the CPI(M) or the BJD are all struggling with the problem of alienation and extremism.
All of them ought to take the dust off the report which offers some excellent administrative suggestions for coping with the Naxalite challenge. What the report does not offer is a political solution that is at the heart of the problem. It was not the brief of the group; for the government though, it must be the guiding core. It needs to put forward a vision of development that addresses the concerns of the millions who do not feel part of the changing India. Politics has to change before anything else can.
Image: From the Sanhati website.
Its not him
even before i reach the periphery of the school playground, my eyes scanning the variously colored heads to pick out the black haired boy, voices call out his name “your mom is here” and he comes towards me not on a run, but with careful strides, his arm held up in midair, gently turning it, his eyes glued on a tiny creepy crawly, concentrating hard on not disturbing that little life taking a stroll on his arm. And reaches me to share that moment. His name is not Mangal.
gorges that were frozen in a winter landscape now gush through the early summer, we seek out glens where the water takes a breather under cool maple trees, peering into the crystal clear depths, he asks “is it true, that if we dip our feet in one ocean we’ve touched all the oceans?” I tease, “the water in your bottle must have been the water that dried up in your grandfather’s village pond, 50 years ago, or it could be the water from the hyacinth choked artificial lake in amma’s city back home, it is not just oceans, all the worlds water is touched.” He is eight not eleven.
on a quite trail in the woods, where my subtropical eyes expect dangerous creatures, instead it has story book animals; deers, rabbits, foxes, squirrels and chipmunks. i come here not to study the forest but the silence, breaking it, he says “big cars are more polluting.” i point to the bracket fungus on a rotting log saying ”those release almost the same kind of gases and they have been at it since before the wheels got a motor” . To to his accusing, so? I smile a “i just wanted you to know that and this“. He’ll never be described as a servant ever.
we read a book about the dreams of a young woman who journeyed in the back of a train on hard wooden seats, separate from the white folks and he asks ”what is a whiz? Oh, Bessie Coleman being good at numbers must have helped her become a good pilot.” My thoughts wander to what his response might be on seeing Mangal eating his lunch? Would he ask ”are there no social services vans that come to pick up people ill treating children, in India? Or will he ask what happens when the the law is broken? Or will he just ask which school does Mangal go to?”
only the grossest element in the picture repulses us adults into expressing or not expressing our feelings of helplessness. In our silence about all the other elements of injustices, things gone so wrong in our society glaring at us in the picture, lies the exposition to the levels we have stooped to in our expectations from our systems -when it comes to the children who are not ours.
He could have been him.
and I Mangal’s mother. Her quite anger consumes me. I will my mind into imagining that mother and son are right now, sharing a moment of wonder at a rain drop at the tip of a leaf, swelling into a perfect pearl drop, catching the luminous moonbeam and their synchronous smiles before it drops gently into the grass. Darling, it is the same water that made us.
At the table
for the Indians who feign ignorance
for Indians who are cleverly in denial
for Indian do-gooders who are blind
for genteel sophisticated Indians
for rich Indians who flaunt their connections
for Indian academics who pass off privilege as merit
for Indians who are not at that table
for Indians who are at different tables at different times
for Indians on whom the camera did not focus
for internet accessing Indians who stumble on this blog and wonder what it is all about
for Indians who feel comfortable seeing this child under the table
This is the reason you feign ignorance, and court denial but mostly some of you are seeking out these images, if not, how would you feel superior, kind, generous and continue doing the myriad good deeds to save the world?
While enjoying the rush of satisfaction on seeing this image, you can go ahead and forget that some of those under the table types have moved out, who know exactly how learned and kind you are. And they know how different you are from those two men at the table. But do keep in mind they have better things to do than educate you out of your real ignorance.
Impressed with Indian Science?
A decade back, Goldemberg wrote about the flawed vision of the technical elite of developing countries; their fancy view of themselves, what they achieved (and did not) and the irrelevance of what they pushed for.
Their approaches were distanced from the local problems, wrecked the environment (social, political and natural), pushed the poor further down and successfully set up nonsensical specialization centers. All this was and is done with the complete confidence that their actions will never be scrutinized and held accountable. In fact this group demands respect that they have been able to promote narrow irrelevant science and technology. Hiding behind qualifications and training used largely to extend kinship base in the establishments that were set up, they deserve the sycophancy they seek.
Here is the article from the series ‘Essay on Science and Society’, in the Science Journal written in 1998.
What Is the Role of Science in Developing Countries?
José Goldemberg.
After the Second World War, a small technical elite arose in developing countries such as India, Pakistan, Brazil, and Iraq who had been educated as scientists in the industrialized world. They thought that by pushing for Manhattan project-type enterprises in nuclear energy, electronics, pharmaceuticals, or space research they could leapfrog the dismally low level of development of their countries. India, for example, started a nuclear energy program that mobilized thousands of technicians and cost hundreds of millions of dollars but failed to meet power demands.
What my scientist colleagues and national leaders alike failed to understand was that development does not necessarily coincide with the possession of nuclear weapons or the capability to launch satellites. Rather, it requires modern agriculture, industrial systems, and education. The technical elite naïvely believed that spin-offs from their nuclear energy or space programs would somehow convert their countries to 20th-century industrialized states. Instead, there were heavy economic and political costs. In India, for example, such programs led to the development of nuclear weapons–which only encouraged Pakistan to do the same–while many basic human needs such as health and education were not given the support needed.
In my view, this scenario means that we in developing countries should not expect to follow the research model that led to the scientific enterprise of the United States and elsewhere. Rather, we need to adapt and develop technologies appropriate to our local circumstances, help strengthen education, and expand our roles as advisers in both government and industry. In this way, we can prevent the brain-drain that results when scientists are not in touch with the problems of their home countries or when they face indifference–and poor financial support–from their governments.
Three models for the relationship between science and development.
In Brazil, the use of ethanol as fuel is one example of how this approach can work.1 By encouraging the wide use of ethanol produced from sugarcane–a traditional crop in the country–as fuel to replace gasoline, the government of Brazil was able replace half of the gasoline used by automobiles in the country (about 200,000 barrels of ethanol per day) with a renewable energy source. In so doing, Brazil became a pioneer in an area that had been neglected by industrialized countries. The entire technology, from the agricultural to the industrial phase, was developed or improved upon by local scientists and technologists. I and other Brazilian scientists first had to convince the government that this approach was technically feasible, even though it had been ignored in industrialized countries. To do this, we had to address questions regarding motor technology, environmental concerns, and the trade-off between raising crops for food versus fuel.
In general, the misconceptions held by the technical elite are derived from an idea cherished by many in the developing world that pure research leads to technological development and then to products that open new markets or conquer existing ones (see figure, model A). This naïve “linear theory” or “cradle-to-grave” approach to science and development served as the blueprint for the establishment of the National Science Foundation in the United States and was widely copied throughout the world.2 But that model fails to stress the interaction that should occur among the phases. As one moves from pure research to technological development and then to production and marketing, unanticipated problems arise that require reexamination and adaptation at the earlier stages.
More realistic are models B and C.3 Model B corresponds, generally speaking, to present practices in the United States, where some overlap exists between the successive stages. Model C illustrates the Japanese practice of having the three phases completely superimposed. These are the more realistic models that developing countries should follow. In models B and C, practical needs–that is, demand–influence supply, namely, the type of pure research that is done. For example, after solid-state devices such as transistors made possible the expansion of switchboarding in telephone services, industrial laboratories such as Bell Laboratories lavishly financed solid-state physics. In developing countries, government goals and the “demand side” pull are often lacking. As a result, universities and research centers have become isolated from the rest of the country in an ivory tower, more connected to research centers in Europe or the United States than to the obvious needs of industry, agriculture, and education in their own countries. Science and technology budgets receive little support from the private sector and instead depend on the national treasury.4 Heavy government bureaucracies wind up cultivating whatever science and technology is fashionable in the developed countries, waiting indefinitely for the time when such competence would trigger development in a manner that resembles the wait for Godot in Beckett’s play. More.
