[Assam] India's middle class failure

[Sanjib Baruah]

http://www.prospect-magazine.co.uk/printarticle.php?id=9776

PROSPECT Magazine

Issue 138 , September 2007

India's middle class failure

by Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad


India's 200m-strong middle class is the most economically dynamic group on 
the planet, but is largely uninterested in politics or social reform. 
Until it begins to engage politically, India will suffer from a lop-sided 
modernisation

Jaya Mary is a cleaner. Tall and thin, with some English, and at least two 
Indian languages, she quietly challenged her main employer, a medium-sized 
company, when it recently threatened to fire her without the pension to 
which she is entitled. When she works in a private house, she has no 
contract, and depends on the goodwill of the householder. She is a 
Christian, but also adheres to many cultural expressions of Hinduism. Her 
husband left her with two small children, and she relies on the support of 
her mother and brother. Her boy is in a local-language state school, but 
her clever daughter is in a private English-language school, which costs 
Jaya 20 per cent of her income. She has an empty bank account, but 
acquired a mobile phone from her scooter-driving brother (whose wife, a 
sworn enemy of Jaya, has just left him). Languages, religions, integrity, 
suffering, family stresses and ties, education, dependence, global 
aspirationshe encompasses them all, she is a Mother India. (And she is a 
very real person.)

As the actual Mother India celebrates the 60th anniversary of her 
independence, there isas in Jaya Mary's lifeboth surging optimism and 
crushing despair about her future. As the saying goes, everything and its 
opposite is true in India. The seven Indian Institutes of Technology rank 
near the top of global surveys, and job offers to graduates from the 
Indian Institutes of Management rival those to graduates of the famous US 
business schools; yet a third of the country is still illiterate. Three 
hundred million Indians live on less than $1 a daya quarter of the world's 
utterly pooryet since 1985, more than 400m (out of a total population of 
1bn) have risen out of relative povertyto $5 a dayand another 300m will 
follow over the next two decades if the economy continues to grow at over 
7 per cent a year. Population growth, even at a slower pace, will mean 
that there will still be millions below the poverty line, but the fall in 
number will be steady. At the other end of the scale, India has the 
largest number of dollar billionaires outside the US and Russia.

Historical success led India and China to their current demographic 
challenges. Their populations grew into the tens of millions because they 
were so economically advanced at the start of the first millenniumat a 
time when even the Roman empire lagged behind. By the time of the birth of 
European modernity, when technology provided leverage for smaller 
populations to improve their lives, India and China already had too many 
people for this to be possible. The legacy of this early success underlies 
both India's scale and the polarity of opinion over what the place is all 
about. India is near the top, or the bottom, of most international 
economic tables. To grapple with such extremes, and to peer into the 
country's future, we must above all try to understand India's rapidly 
growing middle class.

For a country that was born of partition, has had a history of separatism, 
and that encompasses such linguistic, ethnic, social, religious and 
geographic variety, it is strange that even critics talk of India as if 
its legal unity was sufficient guarantor of its actual unity. Statistics 
that combine the city of Chennai, in the stable southern state of Tamil 
Nadu, with a village in newly constituted Jharkhand state, in eastern 
India, are likely to deceive as much as those that try to encompass both 
Denmark and Kosovo.

"India" could have been many other thingsan even larger, undivided India, 
but also a much smaller one, or just a cluster of ancestral formations. 
Only the British empire and then the resolve of the leaders of the 
independence struggle ensured that the ancient yet amorphous idea became a 
single nation state. Sixty years later, there is a functional Indian state 
that is a rising world power despite its huge variationsbut there is also 
a dysfunctional Indian state that cannot realise the social purpose that 
the idea of national citizenship is meant to.

In Tamil Nadu, half the population lived below the poverty line in the 
mid-1960s, but effective contraception, female education and primary 
healthcare led to population stability and a consequent drop in poverty by 
the end of the century. But in Bihar, which had the same percentage of 
people below the poverty line in the 1960s, the population still grows at 
a staggering pace, making anti-poverty measures hard to pursue. Both Assam 
and Punjab have histories of political violence and a poor school system, 
but the latter's infrastructure allows for a standard of life far ahead of 
the former.

Among the middle class, in much of the media, in the malls and airports, 
in houses (however small) with water and electricity, there is still a 
commitment to an India which plays a decisive role on the international 
stagebut now, instead of through "non-aligned" solidarity and ancient 
history, it is through software and finance. Ten years after the buzz 
caused by the nuclear tests, the middle classes take India's new status 
for granted; they simply assume it is India's due to be treated as the 
"equal" of the US and the rest, and move on to talk of economic 
opportunities. This commitment to their own idea of India and their 
central role in its economic rise makes the middle classes sure of 
themselves. But at the same time, their sense of citizenship is weak: they 
do not, on the whole, extend a sense of solidarity to the poor; they often 
do not acknowledge the role of the state in their own rise or its capacity 
to solve any of the country's problems; and they are, in general, 
politically apathetic.

What explains this introversion? Middle classes at all stages of 
development, whether in 19th-century Europe or now, distrust those who 
have not risen with them. Yet in more homogeneous societies, the better 
off are more likely to care for the worse off. Highly diverse societies, 
like India, find it more difficult to institutionalise such fellow 
feeling.
The key to the diversity of Indian society is the

jati systemintermarrying among consanguineous groups with hereditary (if 
often notional) occupations. But these groups are also placed within the 
ancient hierarchy of the varna, or "caste," systemthe fivefold division of 
society on the axis of ritual purity from priests to warriors to merchants 
to labourers to those beyond the possibility of purity and therefore 
untouchable. Over the centuries, there have been many efforts to extend a 
sense of common humanity across castes. The caste system has also allowed 
for unparalleled pluralism of belief and practice; according to the logic 
of purity, the Brahmin priest has no control over practices beyond his 
realm, making for a thrilling diversity of temples, festivals and deities. 
Nonetheless, the varna concept that people are intrinsically pure or 
impure has blighted the idea of citizenship on the subcontinent. And while 
the 1950 Indian constitution sought to end such division (which the 
British had exploited), caste sentiment still drives rural violence and 
the separation of privileged groups.

The social distance of caste is echoed in religious differenceabove all in 
the existence of a large Muslim minority which makes India the largest 
Muslim country in the world after Indonesia. While some hostile Hindus 
still question the Indianness of Muslims, the middle class contains about 
the same percentage of Muslims as does the population as a whole: about 13 
per cent. (Caste distinctions that combine older Hindu divisions with 
newer Islamic social stratification prevail in Indian Islam, and 
middle-class Muslims tend to come from the traditional ashraf or "noble" 
sections of Muslim society.) But despiteor because ofconstitutional 
guarantees of special rights for Muslims, there is a perennial worry over 
Muslim economic progress.

Aside from some extreme Hindu nationalists, I have never met a 
middle-class Indian who did not acknowledge the political equality of all 
Indians. The pride that middle-class Indians take in their democracy 
requires them to have an inclusive sense of Indianness, but not of 
citizenship. Middle-class Indians who feel little obligation to the poor 
tend to believe that they have made their contribution simply by becoming 
middle class. They focus on their own needs because they have overcome a 
great deal to get where they are and still fear slipping back. Moreover, 
they say, why give to the state when the money will just be wasted by 
corrupt politicians?

Charity, civic duty and pressure on both the state and the private sector 
to sustain anti-poverty programmes are rare. Where there is philanthropy, 
the scale is impressive: large corporate groups like the Tata, Birla and 
Bajaj, as well as IT billionaires like Azim Premji and Narayana Murthy, 
are big givers. Young IT professionals often cite these people as their 
models. And it is not only the very rich who give. MN Janardhan, a 
second-generation owner of medium-sized hotels in Chennai, has put many of 
the children of his rural employees through higher education, so that in 
one generation they have become middle class. Meanwhile, small charities 
oriented towards children and women are sprouting up across the country. 
But life expectancy at birth across India as a whole62 for men, 64 for 
womenis lower than in poor Latin American countries like Guatemala and 
Nicaragua, and the poorest rural families eat less rice than they did five 
years ago. And no statistic can capture the agonisingof similar means. 
Raghunath, too, is a trained classical musician, but his "day" job (often 
involving night shifts) is in the business process outsourcing office of 
Microsoft, where he has moved rapidly up the hierarchy. He speaks English 
with American inflections, and says dreamily that he would love to visit 
the westbut not live there. He has the latest MP3 player, and listens to 
the south Indian classical canon on it. He looks forward to marrying, but 
would not think of moving from the family home. His future will lie in a 
middle class that is both recognisably Indian and global.

The middle class uses education to improve the earnings of the next 
generation, and then, if successful, to pursue more elusive goals of 
self-fulfilment. Middle-class lives involve a tussle between individuality 
and community: seeking novel self-expression in new jobs and leisure or 
taking risks with autonomy (the divorce rate is growing, from a low base), 
but also attempting to keep a sense of community, with dutiful support of 
parents (a high number of IT professionals buy cars for their parents) and 
strenuous attempts at maintaining a social circle (oriented around 
alcohol, movies, resorts and restaurants).

One problem with making sense of the Indian middle class is that while it 
clearly relates to caste, it is not clear how: an important development in 
India over the past 60 years has been the disentangling of caste from its 
occupational base and its reconstitution as a form of political identity. 
Upper-caste elites have, in recent decades, become used to those below 
them in the hierarchy accruing economic power, especially since 
liberalisation in the early 1990s. The new middle class argues that since 
it had no help from older elites, its success is self-made and ought to be 
the model for the poor. But the poor are still usually from castes 
traditionally lower than those of the new middle classand this acts as an 
obstacle to their advancement.

In India's complex constitutional categorisation of hereditary identity, 
the traditionally privileged castesfrom the Brahmin, Ksatriya (warrior) 
and Vaisya (trading) communitiesare called the "forward" classes. However, 
it is in the interests of various communities to emphasise their 
"backwardness," in order to take advantage of higher education places and 
public sector jobs reserved for lower-caste groups. The result is that 
there are constant challenges to the system of classification under which 
the same caste can be forward or backward in different states. In any 
case, a CNN-IBN/Hindustan Times survey found that 37 per cent of the 
forward classes were part of the middle class, as were nearly half of 
Indian Sikhs and Christians (who each form about 2 per cent of the 
population). The Sikhs are known for economic success, but the size of the 
Christian middle class is more surprising, since some of the most marginal 
social groups are Christian Dalits. Parsis and Jains are usually too 
wealthy to count as middle class at all.

Caste discrimination becomes clearer when considering the "backward" 
castes. The most deprived, the "scheduled" casteslargely Dalitswho are 
listed in the schedule of the Indian constitution and make up some 16 per 
cent of the population, barely figure in the middle class. Only 13 per 
cent of the middle class come from the "other backward classes"caste 
groups not specifically named in the constitution, who make up around half 
of the Indian population. Still, while more disadvantaged groups take 
longer to work their way into the middle class, the fact that it is 
happening at alland faster since the liberalisation of the economy in the 
early 1990sindicates that its borders are porous. On the other hand, as we 
have seen, aspiration typically goes hand in hand with a distrust of 
"losers." It is normal for servants in middle-class homes to come from 
shacks in areas where there is no electricity or running water. A humane 
middle-class householder gives gifts to her cleaner; a little local 
organisation seeks to teach and feed the labourers' children. But these 
are token gestures against the essential injustice of things. Without 
drainage, water, electricity, decent housing and access to medical 
treatment, many will live in misery.


Middle-class scepticism about the capacity of the state is understandable, 
but is also at the root of India's troubles. The assumption of many in the 
middle class that they owe nothing to the state is simply wrong. Edward 
Luce, in his recent In Spite of the Gods: The Strange Rise of Modern 
India, makes the point that India has boomed economically partly as a 
result of the huge investment in higher educationto the detriment of 
primary educationmade by successive Iwere taken for granted and are now 
neglected by those who see their prosperity as a result of their own 
economic wherewithal. Politics for the middle class is an intellectual 
preoccupation, not an urgent ethical imperative. Polls routinely show that 
compared to poorer sections of society, the middle class treats voting and 
other political activity as low priorities. In a recent focus group I ran 
with the polling company ACNielsen, young IT professionals dismissed 
political activity as dishonest, and said they preferred donations to 
their own company charities as the way to make a difference. The Indian 
middle class behaves more like the contemporary consuming classes of the 
west, relentlessly concentrating on expanding its choice of lifestyles 
while taking political parties to be as bad as each other and non-party 
politics to be hopelessly idealistic.

The possibility of political change is better realised by those who have 
notyethad the opportunity to concentrate on consumption. Often the most 
politically active in India are those who are poor without being 
destitute: the $1-to-$5-a-day people. It is they who tend to give 
majorities to political parties. This is because it is their lives that 
are most likely to be transformed by state action. If there is no decent 
school in the neighbourhood, if lower castes face discrimination, if a 
child falls ill and requires medicine, if there is drought, if the market 
price of an agricultural product collapses, then they are exposedbut these 
are areas where an effective state can make a difference. Investment in 
healthcare in Tamil Nadu, education in Kerala, roads in Maharashtra, 
targeted agricultural relief in West Bengal have all helped the working 
poor, and political parties that have delivered have thrived over several 
electoral cycles.

There are now effective movements of marginalised groups and opportunistic 
social coalitions in many states. In the most striking of recent 
developments, earlier this year, a Dalit politician, Mayawati Kumari, led 
her party to a big majority in the largest state, Uttar Pradesh, with a 
novel coalition of Brahmins, Dalits and Muslims. Although she faced 
charges of corruption, and led a party with as many convicted criminals as 
those of her opponents, Mayawati demonstrated that politics might be the 
scene of resistance to the inequities of the market.

Indeed, political parties that focus on social reformincluding the 
Congress-led alliance that won the 2004 general electionare winning power 
in many parts of the country. The problem is that India's democratic 
institutions are developed enough to tempt politicians to embed themselves 
in them rather than radically change them; so we must wait and see whether 
the electoral success of those outside of the middle class can make the 
state more responsive to their needs.

But for all the potential for transformation that an optimist might see in 
the political activity of the poor, it still likely that the sheer pace of 
economic growth is what will matter most in the coming decades. The 
democratic Indian state could not impose a country-wide population control 
strategy, in contrast to the clinical efficiency of communist China. But 
now it is clear that China will grow old long before it grows rich, while 
India's young population will enjoy much more sustained growth well into 
the century. The question is whether new forms of economic and political 
activity will combine to make development less a matter of luck and 
unintended consequences and more a matter of moral urgency and strategy. 
Despite an army of passionate development economists drawn from the middle 
class, this has not yet happened.

In the middle of celebrations to mark the 60th year of India's 
independence, there is much to despair about. The middle class is the 
cause of both the celebration and the despair. What matters now is what 
happens to those who look to both state and market to make their lives 
more like those of the middle class.

Lakshmi, a 45-year-old woman living in Bangalore, is barely literate, and 
that makes her work as a cook difficult, since she has to order 
provisions. But with help from two of her employers (revealingly, women, 
whom she calls "akka," or elder sister) she is putting her three daughters 
through state schools, and has even got one into college. From a remote 
village, with no educationand, truth to tell, not much culinary skill 
eithershe has charted a path for her daughters straight into the middle 
class. (Her husband drinks and cannot hold down work.) She asks for money 
to help them study, because her earnings can do no more than feed and 
clothe them. "Those girls are going to finish their studies and take real 
jobs," she says. She gestures around the confines of the kitchen. 
"Brother, tell me, can this be all there is to life?" The fact that there 
can indeed be more is going to be important to her girls, to the middle 
class, and to India itself.