[News] Capitalism: A Ghost Story - Arundhati Roy
Anti-Imperialist News
news at freedomarchives.org
Tue Mar 20 19:23:51 EDT 2012
Capitalism: A Ghost Story
By Arundhati Roy
20 March, 2012
http://www.outlookindia.com/article.aspx?280234
Is it a house or a home? A temple to the new
India, or a warehouse for its ghosts? Ever since
Antilla arrived on Altamont Road in Mumbai,
exuding mystery and quiet menace, things have not
been the same. Here we are, the friend who took
me there said, Pay your respects to our new Ruler.
Antilla belongs to Indias richest man, Mukesh
Ambani. I had read about this most expensive
dwelling ever built, the twenty-seven floors,
three helipads, nine lifts, hanging gardens,
ballrooms, weather rooms, gymnasiums, six floors
of parking, and the six hundred servants. Nothing
had prepared me for the vertical lawna soaring,
27-storey-high wall of grass attached to a vast
metal grid. The grass was dry in patches; bits
had fallen off in neat rectangles. Clearly, Trickledown hadnt worked.
But Gush-Up certainly has. Thats why in a nation
of 1.2 billion, Indias 100 richest people own
assets equivalent to one-fourth of the GDP.
The word on the street (and in the New York
Times) is, or at least was, that after all that
effort and gardening, the Ambanis dont live in
Antilla. No one knows for sure. People still
whisper about ghosts and bad luck, Vaastu and
Feng Shui. Maybe its all Karl Marxs fault. (All
that cussing.) Capitalism, he said, has conjured
up such gigantic means of production and of
exchange, that it is like the sorcerer who is no
longer able to control the powers of the nether
world whom he has called up by his spells.
In India, the 300 million of us who belong to the
new, post-IMF reforms middle classthe
marketlive side by side with spirits of the
nether world, the poltergeists of dead rivers,
dry wells, bald mountains and denuded forests;
the ghosts of 2,50,000 debt-ridden farmers who
have killed themselves, and of the 800 million
who have been impoverished and dispossessed to
make way for us. And who survive on less than twenty rupees a day.
Mukesh Ambani is personally worth $20 billion. He
holds a majority controlling share in Reliance
Industries Limited (RIL), a company with a market
capitalisation of $47 billion and global business
interests that include petrochemicals, oil,
natural gas, polyester fibre, Special Economic
Zones, fresh food retail, high schools, life
sciences research and stem cell storage services.
RIL recently bought 95 per cent shares in
Infotel, a TV consortium that controls 27 TV news
and entertainment channels, including CNN-IBN,
IBN Live, CNBC, IBN Lokmat, and ETV in almost
every regional language. Infotel owns the only
nationwide licence for 4G Broadband, a high-speed
information pipeline which, if the technology
works, could be the future of information
exchange. Mr Ambani also owns a cricket team.
RIL is one of a handful of corporations that run
India. Some of the others are the Tatas, Jindals,
Vedanta, Mittals, Infosys, Essar and the other
Reliance (ADAG), owned by Mukeshs brother Anil.
Their race for growth has spilled across Europe,
Central Asia, Africa and Latin America. Their
nets are cast wide; they are visible and
invisible, over-ground as well as underground.
The Tatas, for example, run more than 100
companies in 80 countries. They are one of
Indias oldest and largest private sector power
companies. They own mines, gas fields, steel
plants, telephone, cable TV and broadband
networks, and run whole townships. They
manufacture cars and trucks, own the Taj Hotel
chain, Jaguar, Land Rover, Daewoo, Tetley Tea, a
publishing company, a chain of bookstores, a
major brand of iodised salt and the cosmetics
giant Lakme. Their advertising tagline could
easily be: You Cant Live Without Us.
According to the rules of the Gush-Up Gospel, the
more you have, the more you can have.
The era of the Privatisation of Everything has
made the Indian economy one of the fastest
growing in the world. However, like any good
old-fashioned colony, one of its main exports is
its minerals. Indias new
mega-corporationsTatas, Jindals, Essar,
Reliance, Sterliteare those who have managed to
muscle their way to the head of the spigot that
is spewing money extracted from deep inside the
earth. Its a dream come true for businessmento
be able to sell what they dont have to buy.
The other major source of corporate wealth comes
from their land-banks. All over the world, weak,
corrupt local governments have helped Wall Street
brokers, agro-business corporations and Chinese
billionaires to amass huge tracts of land. (Of
course, this entails commandeering water too.) In
India, the land of millions of people is being
acquired and made over to private corporations
for public interestfor Special Economic Zones,
infrastructure projects, dams, highways, car
manufacture, chemical hubs and Formula One
racing. (The sanctity of private property never
applies to the poor.) As always, local people are
promised that their displacement from their land
and the expropriation of everything they ever had
is actually part of employment generation. But by
now we know that the connection between GDP
growth and jobs is a myth. After 20 years of
growth, 60 per cent of Indias workforce is
self-employed, 90 per cent of Indias labour
force works in the unorganised sector.
Post-Independence, right up to the 80s, peoples
movements, ranging from the Naxalites to
Jayaprakash Narayans Sampoorna Kranti, were
fighting for land reforms, for the redistribution
of land from feudal landlords to landless
peasants. Today any talk of redistribution of
land or wealth would be considered not just
undemocratic, but lunatic. Even the most militant
movements have been reduced to a fight to hold on
to what little land people still have. The
millions of landless people, the majority of them
Dalits and adivasis, driven from their villages,
living in slums and shanty colonies in small
towns and mega cities, do not figure even in the radical discourse.
As Gush-Up concentrates wealth on to the tip of a
shining pin on which our billionaires pirouette,
tidal waves of money crash through the
institutions of democracythe courts, Parliament
as well as the media, seriously compromising
their ability to function in the ways they are
meant to. The noisier the carnival around
elections, the less sure we are that democracy really exists.
Each new corruption scandal that surfaces in
India makes the last one look tame. In the summer
of 2011, the 2G spectrum scandal broke. We learnt
that corporations had siphoned away $40 billion
of public money by installing a friendly soul as
the Union minister of telecommunication who
grossly underpriced the licences for 2G telecom
spectrum and illegally parcelled it out to his
buddies. The taped telephone conversations leaked
to the press showed how a network of
industrialists and their front companies,
ministers, senior journalists and a TV anchor
were involved in facilitating this daylight
robbery. The tapes were just an MRI that
confirmed a diagnosis that people had made long ago.
The privatisation and illegal sale of telecom
spectrum does not involve war, displacement and
ecological devastation. The privatisation of
Indias mountains, rivers and forests does.
Perhaps because it does not have the
uncomplicated clarity of a straightforward,
out-and-out accounting scandal, or perhaps
because it is all being done in the name of
Indias progress, it does not have the same
resonance with the middle classes.
In 2005, the state governments of Chhattisgarh,
Orissa and Jharkhand signed hundreds of
Memorandums of Understanding (MoUs) with a number
of private corporations turning over trillions of
dollars of bauxite, iron ore and other minerals
for a pittance, defying even the warped logic of
the free market. (Royalties to the government
ranged between 0.5 per cent and 7 per cent.)
Only days after the Chhattisgarh government
signed an MoU for the construction of an
integrated steel plant in Bastar with Tata Steel,
the Salwa Judum, a vigilante militia, was
inaugurated. The government said it was a
spontaneous uprising of local people who were fed
up of the repression by Maoist guerrillas in
the forest. It turned out to be a ground-clearing
operation, funded and armed by the government and
subsidised by mining corporations. In the other
states, similar militias were created, with other
names. The prime minister announced the Maoists
were the single-largest security challenge in
India. It was a declaration of war.
On January 2, 2006, in Kalinganagar, in the
neighbouring state of Orissa, perhaps to signal
the seriousness of the governments intention,
ten platoons of police arrived at the site of
another Tata Steel plant and opened fire on
villagers who had gathered there to protest what
they felt was inadequate compensation for their
land. Thirteen people, including one policeman,
were killed, and 37 injured. Six years have gone
by and though the villages remain under siege by
armed policemen, the protest has not died.
Meanwhile in Chhattisgarh, the Salwa Judum
burned, raped and murdered its way through
hundreds of forest villages, evacuating 600
villages, forcing 50,000 people to come out into
police camps and 3,50,000 people to flee. The
chief minister announced that those who did not
come out of the forests would be considered to be
Maoist terrorists. In this way, in parts of
modern India, ploughing fields and sowing seed
came to be defined as terrorist activity.
Eventually, the Salwa Judums atrocities only
succeeded in strengthening the resistance and
swelling the ranks of the Maoist guerrilla army.
In 2009, the government announced what it called
Operation Green Hunt. Two lakh paramilitary
troops were deployed across Chhattisgarh, Orissa, Jharkhand and West Bengal.
After three years of low-intensity conflict
that has not managed to flush the rebels out of
the forest, the central government has declared
that it will deploy the Indian army and air
force. In India, we dont call this war. We call
it creating a good investment climate.
Thousands of soldiers have already moved in. A
brigade headquarters and air bases are being
readied. One of the biggest armies in the world
is now preparing its Terms of Engagement to
defend itself against the poorest, hungriest,
most malnourished people in the world. We only
await the declaration of the Armed Forces Special
Powers Act (AFSPA), which will give the army
legal immunity and the right to kill on
suspicion. Going by the tens of thousands of
unmarked graves and anonymous cremation pyres in
Kashmir, Manipur and Nagaland, it has shown
itself to be a very suspicious army indeed.
While the preparations for deployment are being
made, the jungles of Central India continue to
remain under siege, with villagers frightened to
come out, or go to the market for food or
medicine. Hundreds of people have been jailed,
charged for being Maoists under draconian,
undemocratic laws. Prisons are crowded with
adivasi people, many of whom have no idea what
their crime is. Recently, Soni Sori, an adivasi
school-teacher from Bastar, was arrested and
tortured in police custody. Stones were pushed up
her vagina to get her to confess that she was a
Maoist courier. The stones were removed from her
body at a hospital in Calcutta, where, after a
public outcry, she was sent for a medical
check-up. At a recent Supreme Court hearing,
activists presented the judges with the stones in
a plastic bag. The only outcome of their efforts
has been that Soni Sori remains in jail while
Ankit Garg, the Superintendent of Police who
conducted the interrogation, was conferred with
the Presidents Police Medal for Gallantry on Republic Day.
We hear about the ecological and social
re-engineering of Central India only because of
the mass insurrection and the war. The government
gives out no information. The Memorandums of
Understanding are all secret. Some sections of
the media have done what they could to bring
public attention to what is happening in Central
India. However, most of the Indian mass media is
made vulnerable by the fact that the major share
of its revenues come from corporate
advertisements. If that is not bad enough, now
the line between the media and big business has
begun to blur dangerously. As we have seen, RIL
virtually owns 27 TV channels. But the reverse is
also true. Some media houses now have direct
business and corporate interests. For example,
one of the major daily newspapers in the
regionDainik Bhaskar (and it is only one
example)has 17.5 million readers in four
languages, including English and Hindi, across 13
states. It also owns 69 companies with interests
in mining, power generation, real estate and
textiles. A recent writ petition filed in the
Chhattisgarh High Court accuses DB Power Ltd (one
of the groups companies) of using deliberate,
illegal and manipulative measures through
company-owned newspapers to influence the outcome
of a public hearing over an open cast coal mine.
Whether or not it has attempted to influence the
outcome is not germane. The point is that media
houses are in a position to do so. They have the
power to do so. The laws of the land allow them
to be in a position that lends itself to a serious conflict of interest.
There are other parts of the country from which
no news comes. In the sparsely populated but
militarised northeastern state of Arunachal
Pradesh, 168 big dams are being constructed, most
of them privately owned. High dams that will
submerge whole districts are being constructed in
Manipur and Kashmir, both highly militarised
states where people can be killed merely for
protesting power cuts. (That happened a few weeks
ago in Kashmir.) How can they stop a dam?
The most delusional dam of all is Kalpasar in
Gujarat. It is being planned as a 34-km-long dam
across the Gulf of Khambhat with a 10-lane
highway and a railway line running on top of it.
By keeping the sea water out, the idea is to
create a sweet water reservoir of Gujarats
rivers. (Never mind that these rivers have
already been dammed to a trickle and poisoned
with chemical effluent.) The Kalpasar dam, which
would raise the sea level and alter the ecology
of hundreds of kilometres of coastline, had been
dismissed as a bad idea 10 years ago. It has made
a sudden comeback in order to supply water to the
Dholera Special Investment Region (SIR) in one of
the most water-stressed zones not just in India,
but in the world. SIR is another name for an SEZ,
a self-governed corporate dystopia of industrial
parks, townships and mega-cities. The Dholera
SIR is going to be connected to Gujarats other
cities by a network of 10-lane highways. Where
will the money for all this come from?
In January 2011, in the Mahatma (Gandhi) Mandir,
Gujarat chief minister Narendra Modi presided
over a meeting of 10,000 international
businessmen from 100 countries. According to
media reports, they pledged to invest $450
billion in Gujarat. The meeting was scheduled to
take place at the onset of the 10th anniversary
year of the massacre of 2,000 Muslims in
February-March 2002. Modi stands accused of not
just condoning, but actively abetting, the
killing. People who watched their loved ones
being raped, eviscerated and burned alive, the
tens of thousands who were driven from their
homes, still wait for a gesture towards justice.
But Modi has traded in his saffron scarf and
vermilion forehead for a sharp business suit, and
hopes that a 450-billion-dollar investment will
work as blood money, and square the books.
Perhaps it will. Big Business is backing him
enthusiastically. The algebra of infinite justice works in mysterious ways.
The Dholera SIR is only one of the smaller
Matryoshka dolls, one of the inner ones in the
dystopia that is being planned. It will be
connected to the Delhi Mumbai Industrial Corridor
(DMIC), a 1,500-km-long and 300-km-wide
industrial corridor, with nine mega-industrial
zones, a high-speed freight line, three seaports
and six airports, a six-lane intersection-free
expressway and a 4,000 MW power plant. The DMIC
is a collaborative venture between the
governments of India and Japan, and their
respective corporate partners, and has been
proposed by the McKinsey Global Institute.
The DMIC website says that approximately 180
million people will be affected by the project.
Exactly how, it doesnt say. It envisages the
building of several new cities and estimates that
the population in the region will grow from the
current 231 million to 314 million by 2019.
Thats in seven years time. When was the last
time a state, despot or dictator carried out a
population transfer of millions of people? Can it
possibly be a peaceful process?
The Indian army might need to go on a recruitment
drive so that its not taken unawares when its
ordered to deploy all over India. In preparation
for its role in Central India, it publicly
released its updated doctrine on Military
Psychological Operations, which outlines a
planned process of conveying a message to a
select target audience, to promote particular
themes that result in desired attitudes and
behaviour, which affect the achievement of
political and military objectives of the
country. This process of perception
management, it said, would be conducted by
using media available to the services.
The army is experienced enough to know that
coercive force alone cannot carry out or manage
social engineering on the scale that is envisaged
by Indias planners. War against the poor is one
thing. But for the rest of usthe middle class,
white-collar workers, intellectuals,
opinion-makersit has to be perception
management. And for this we must turn our
attention to the exquisite art of Corporate Philanthropy.
Of late, the main mining conglomerates have
embraced the Artsfilm, art installations and the
rush of literary festivals that have replaced the
90s obsession with beauty contests. Vedanta,
currently mining the heart out of the homelands
of the ancient Dongria Kondh tribe for bauxite,
is sponsoring a Creating Happiness film
competition for young film students whom they
have commissioned to make films on sustainable
development. Vedantas tagline is Mining
Happiness. The Jindal Group brings out a
contemporary art magazine and supports some of
Indias major artists (who naturally work with
stainless steel). Essar was the principal sponsor
of the Tehelka Newsweek Think Fest that promised
high-octane debates by the foremost thinkers
from around the world, which included major
writers, activists and even the architect Frank
Gehry. (All this in Goa, where activists and
journalists were uncovering massive illegal
mining scandals, and Essars part in the war
unfolding in Bastar was emerging.) Tata Steel and
Rio Tinto (which has a sordid track record of its
own) were among the chief sponsors of the Jaipur
Literary Festival (Latin name: Darshan Singh
Construction Jaipur Literary Festival) that is
advertised by the cognoscenti as The Greatest
Literary Show on Earth. Counselage, the Tatas
strategic brand manager, sponsored the
festivals press tent. Many of the worlds best
and brightest writers gathered in Jaipur to
discuss love, literature, politics and Sufi
poetry. Some tried to defend Salman Rushdies
right to free speech by reading from his
proscribed book, The Satanic Verses. In every TV
frame and newspaper photograph, the logo of Tata
Steel (and its taglineValues Stronger than
Steel) loomed behind them, a benign, benevolent
host. The enemies of Free Speech were the
supposedly murderous Muslim mobs, who, the
festival organisers told us, could have even
harmed the school-children gathered there. (We
are witness to how helpless the Indian government
and the police can be when it comes to Muslims.)
Yes, the hardline Darul-Uloom Deobandi Islamic
seminary did protest Rushdie being invited to the
festival. Yes, some Islamists did gather at the
festival venue to protest and yes, outrageously,
the state government did nothing to protect the
venue. Thats because the whole episode had as
much to do with democracy, votebanks and the
Uttar Pradesh elections as it did with Islamist
fundamentalism. But the battle for Free Speech
against Islamist Fundamentalism made it to the
worlds newspapers. It is important that it did.
But there were hardly any reports about the
festival sponsors role in the war in the
forests, the bodies piling up, the prisons
filling up. Or about the Unlawful Activities
Prevention Act and the Chhattisgarh Special
Public Security Act, which make even thinking an
anti-government thought a cognisable offence. Or
about the mandatory public hearing for the Tata
Steel plant in Lohandiguda which local people
complained actually took place hundreds of miles
away in Jagdalpur, in the collectors office
compound, with a hired audience of fifty people,
under armed guard. Where was Free Speech then? No
one mentioned Kalinganagar. No one mentioned that
journalists, academics and filmmakers working on
subjects unpopular with the Indian
governmentlike the surreptitious part it played
in the genocide of Tamils in the war in Sri Lanka
or the recently discovered unmarked graves in
Kashmirwere being denied visas or deported straight from the airport.
But which of us sinners was going to cast the
first stone? Not me, who lives off royalties from
corporate publishing houses. We all watch Tata
Sky, we surf the net with Tata Photon, we ride in
Tata taxis, we stay in Tata Hotels, we sip our
Tata tea in Tata bone china and stir it with
teaspoons made of Tata Steel. We buy Tata books
in Tata bookshops. Hum Tata ka namak khate hain. Were under siege.
If the sledgehammer of moral purity is to be the
criterion for stone-throwing, then the only
people who qualify are those who have been
silenced already. Those who live outside the
system; the outlaws in the forests or those whose
protests are never covered by the press, or the
well-behaved dispossessed, who go from tribunal
to tribunal, bearing witness, giving testimony.
But the Litfest gave us our Aha! Moment. Oprah
came. She said she loved India, that she would
come again and again. It made us proud.
This is only the burlesque end of the Exquisite Art.
Though the Tatas have been involved with
corporate philanthropy for almost a hundred years
now, endowing scholarships and running some
excellent educational institutes and hospitals,
Indian corporations have only recently been
invited into the Star Chamber, the Camera
stellata, the brightly lit world of global
corporate government, deadly for its adversaries,
but otherwise so artful that you barely know its there.
What follows in this essay might appear to some
to be a somewhat harsh critique. On the other
hand, in the tradition of honouring ones
adversaries, it could be read as an
acknowledgement of the vision, flexibility, the
sophistication and unwavering determination of
those who have dedicated their lives to keep the world safe for capitalism.
Their enthralling history, which has faded from
contemporary memory, began in the US in the early
20th century when, kitted out legally in the form
of endowed foundations, corporate philanthropy
began to replace missionary activity as
Capitalisms (and Imperialisms) road opening and
systems maintenance patrol. Among the first
foundations to be set up in the United States
were the Carnegie Corporation, endowed in 1911 by
profits from the Carnegie Steel Company; and the
Rockefeller Foundation, endowed in 1914 by J.D.
Rockefeller, founder of Standard Oil Company. The
Tatas and Ambanis of their time.
Some of the institutions financed, given seed
money or supported by the Rockefeller Foundation
are the UN, the CIA, the Council on Foreign
Relations, New Yorks most fabulous Museum of
Modern Art, and, of course, the Rockefeller
Center in New York (where Diego Rivieras mural
had to be blasted off the wall because it
mischievously depicted reprobate capitalists and
a valiant Lenin. Free Speech had taken the day off.)
J.D. Rockefeller was Americas first billionaire
and the worlds richest man. He was an
abolitionist, a supporter of Abraham Lincoln and
a teetotaller. He believed his money was given to
him by God, which must have been nice for him.
Heres an excerpt from one of Pablo Nerudas
early poems called Standard Oil Company:
Their obese emperors from New York
are suave smiling assassins
who buy silk, nylon, cigars
petty tyrants and dictators.
They buy countries, people, seas, police, county councils,
distant regions where the poor hoard their corn
like misers their gold:
Standard Oil awakens them,
clothes them in uniforms, designates
which brother is the enemy.
the Paraguayan fights its war,
and the Bolivian wastes away
in the jungle with its machine gun.
A President assassinated for a drop of petroleum,
a million-acre mortgage,
a swift execution on a morning mortal with light, petrified,
a new prison camp for subversives,
in Patagonia, a betrayal, scattered shots
beneath a petroliferous moon,
a subtle change of ministers
in the capital, a whisper
like an oil tide,
and zap, youll see
how Standard Oils letters shine above the clouds,
above the seas, in your home,
illuminating their dominions.
When corporate-endowed foundations first made
their appearance in the US, there was a fierce
debate about their provenance, legality and lack
of accountability. People suggested that if
companies had so much surplus money, they should
raise the wages of their workers. (People made
these outrageous suggestions in those days, even
in America.) The idea of these foundations, so
ordinary now, was in fact a leap of the business
imagination. Non-tax-paying legal entities with
massive resources and an almost unlimited
briefwholly unaccountable, wholly
non-transparentwhat better way to parlay
economic wealth into political, social and
cultural capital, to turn money into power? What
better way for usurers to use a minuscule
percentage of their profits to run the world? How
else would Bill Gates, who admittedly knows a
thing or two about computers, find himself
designing education, health and agriculture
policies, not just for the US government, but for
governments all over the world?
Over the years, as people witnessed some of the
genuinely good the foundations did (running
public libraries, eradicating diseases)the
direct connection between corporations and the
foundations they endowed began to blur.
Eventually, it faded altogether. Now even those
who consider themselves left-wing are not shy to accept their largesse.
By the 1920s, US capitalism had begun to look
outwards, for raw materials and overseas markets.
Foundations began to formulate the idea of global
corporate governance. In 1924, the Rockefeller
and Carnegie foundations jointly created what is
today the most powerful foreign policy pressure
group in the worldthe Council on Foreign
Relations (CFR), which later came to be funded by
the Ford Foundation as well. By 1947, the newly
created CIA was supported by and working closely
with the CFR. Over the years, the CFRs
membership has included 22 US secretaries of
state. There were five CFR members in the 1943
steering committee that planned the UN, and an
$8.5 million grant from J.D. Rockefeller bought
the land on which the UNs New York headquarters stands.
All eleven of the World Banks presidents since
1946men who have presented themselves as
missionaries of the poorhave been members of the
CFR. (The exception was George Woods. And he was
a trustee of the Rockefeller Foundation and
vice-president of Chase-Manhattan Bank.)
At Bretton Woods, the World Bank and IMF decided
that the US dollar should be the reserve currency
of the world, and that in order to enhance the
penetration of global capital, it would be
necessary to universalise and standardise
business practices in an open marketplace. It is
towards that end that they spend a large amount
of money promoting Good Governance (as long as
they control the strings), the concept of the
Rule of Law (provided they have a say in making
the laws) and hundreds of anti-corruption
programmes (to streamline the system they have
put in place.) Two of the most opaque,
unaccountable organisations in the world go about
demanding transparency and accountability from
the governments of poorer countries.
Given that the World Bank has more or less
directed the economic policies of the Third
World, coercing and cracking open the markets of
country after country for global finance, you
could say that corporate philanthropy has turned
out to be the most visionary business of all time.
Corporate-endowed foundations administer, trade
and channelise their power and place their
chessmen on the chessboard, through a system of
elite clubs and think-tanks, whose members
overlap and move in and out through the revolving
doors. Contrary to the various conspiracy
theories in circulation, particularly among
left-wing groups, there is nothing secret,
satanic, or Freemason-like about this
arrangement. It is not very different from the
way corporations use shell companies and offshore
accounts to transfer and administer their
moneyexcept that the currency is power, not money.
The transnational equivalent of the CFR is the
Trilateral Commission, set up in 1973 by David
Rockefeller, the former US National Security
Advisor Zbigniew Brzezinski (founder-member of
the Afghan Mujahideen, forefathers of the
Taliban), the Chase-Manhattan Bank and some other
private eminences. Its purpose was to create an
enduring bond of friendship and cooperation
between the elites of North America, Europe and
Japan. It has now become a penta-lateral
commission, because it includes members from
China and India. (Tarun Das of the CII; N.R.
Narayanamurthy, ex-CEO, Infosys; Jamsheyd N.
Godrej, managing director, Godrej; Jamshed J.
Irani, director, Tata Sons; and Gautam Thapar, CEO, Avantha Group).
The Aspen Institute is an international club of
local elites, businessmen, bureaucrats,
politicians, with franchises in several
countries. Tarun Das is the president of the
Aspen Institute, India. Gautam Thapar is
chairman. Several senior officers of the McKinsey
Global Institute (proposer of the Delhi Mumbai
Industrial Corridor) are members of the CFR, the
Trilateral Commission and the Aspen Institute.
The Ford Foundation (liberal foil to the more
conservative Rockefeller Foundation, though the
two work together constantly) was set up in 1936.
Though it is often underplayed, the Ford
Foundation has a very clear, well-defined
ideology and works extremely closely with the US
state department. Its project of deepening
democracy and good governance are very much
part of the Bretton Woods scheme of standardising
business practice and promoting efficiency in the
free market. After the Second World War, when
Communists replaced Fascists as the US
governments enemy number one, new kinds of
institutions were needed to deal with the Cold
War. Ford funded RAND (Research and Development
Corporation), a military think-tank that began
with weapons research for the US defense
services. In 1952, to thwart the persistent
Communist effort to penetrate and disrupt free
nations, it established the Fund for the
Republic, which then morphed into the Center for
the Study of Democratic Institutions whose brief
was to wage the cold war intelligently without
McCarthyite excesses. It is through this lens
that we need to view the work Ford Foundation is
doing, with the millions of dollars it has
invested in Indiaits funding of artists,
filmmakers and activists, its generous endowment
of university courses and scholarships.
The Ford Foundations declared goals for the
future of mankind include interventions in
grassroots political movements locally and
internationally. In the US, it provided millions
in grants and loans to support the Credit Union
Movement that was pioneered by the department
store owner, Edward Filene, in 1919. Filene
believed in creating a mass consumption society
of consumer goods by giving workers affordable
access to credita radical idea at the time.
Actually, only half of a radical idea, because
the other half of what Filene believed in was the
more equitable distribution of national income.
Capitalists seized on the first half of Filenes
suggestion, and by disbursing affordable loans
of tens of millions of dollars to working people,
turned the US working class into people who are
permanently in debt, running to catch up with their lifestyles.
Many years later, this idea has trickled down to
the impoverished countryside of Bangladesh when
Mohammed Yunus and the Grameen Bank brought
microcredit to starving peasants with disastrous
consequences. Microfinance companies in India are
responsible for hundreds of suicides200 people
in Andhra Pradesh in 2010 alone. A national daily
recently published a suicide note by an
18-year-old girl who was forced to hand over her
last Rs 150, her school fees, to bullying
employees of the microfinance company. The note
said, Work hard and earn money. Do not take loans.
Theres a lot of money in poverty, and a few Nobel Prizes too.
By the 1950s, the Rockefeller and Ford
foundations, funding several NGOs and
international educational institutions, began to
work as quasi-extensions of the US government
that was at the time toppling democratically
elected governments in Latin America, Iran and
Indonesia. (That was also around the time they
made their entry into India, then non-aligned,
but clearly tilting towards the Soviet Union.)
The Ford Foundation established a US-style
economics course at the Indonesian University.
Elite Indonesian students, trained in
counter-insurgency by US army officers, played a
crucial part in the 1965 CIA-backed coup in
Indonesia that brought General Suharto to power.
Gen Suharto repaid his mentors by slaughtering
hundreds of thousands of Communist rebels.
Eight years later, young Chilean students, who
came to be known as the Chicago Boys, were taken
to the US to be trained in neo-liberal economics
by Milton Friedman at the University of Chicago
(endowed by J.D. Rockefeller), in preparation for
the 1973 CIA-backed coup that killed Salvador
Allende, and brought in General Pinochet and a
reign of death squads, disappearances and terror
that lasted for seventeen years. (Allendes crime
was being a democratically elected socialist and nationalising Chiles mines.)
In 1957, the Rockefeller Foundation established
the Ramon Magsaysay Prize for community leaders
in Asia. It was named after Ramon Magsaysay,
president of the Philippines, a crucial ally in
the US campaign against Communism in Southeast
Asia. In 2000, the Ford Foundation established
the Ramon Magsaysay Emergent Leadership Award.
The Magsaysay Award is considered a prestigious
award among artists, activists and community
workers in India. M.S. Subbulakshmi and Satyajit
Ray won it, so did Jayaprakash Narayan and one of
Indias finest journalists, P. Sainath. But they
did more for the Magsaysay award than it did for
them. In general, it has become a gentle arbiter
of what kind of activism is acceptable and what is not.
Interestingly, Anna Hazares anti-corruption
movement last summer was spearheaded by three
Magsaysay Award winnersAnna Hazare, Arvind
Kejriwal and Kiran Bedi. One of Arvind Kejriwals
many NGOs is generously funded by Ford
Foundation. Kiran Bedis NGO is funded by Coca Cola and Lehman Brothers.
Though Anna Hazare calls himself a Gandhian, the
law he called forthe Jan Lokpal Billwas
un-Gandhian, elitist and dangerous. A
round-the-clock corporate media campaign
proclaimed him to be the voice of the people.
Unlike the Occupy Wall Street movement in the US,
the Hazare movement did not breathe a word
against privatisation, corporate power or
economic reforms. On the contrary, its
principal media backers successfully turned the
spotlight away from massive corporate corruption
scandals (which had exposed high-profile
journalists too) and used the public mauling of
politicians to call for the further withdrawal of
discretionary powers from government, for more
reforms, more privatisation. (In 2008, Anna
Hazare received a World Bank award for
outstanding public service). The World Bank
issued a statement from Washington saying the
movement dovetailed into its policy.
Like all good Imperialists, the Philanthropoids
set themselves the task of creating and training
an international cadre that believed that
Capitalism, and by extension the hegemony of the
United States, was in their own self-interest.
And who would therefore help to administer the
Global Corporate Government in the ways native
elites had always served colonialism. So began
the foundations foray into education and the
arts, which would become their third sphere of
influence, after foreign and domestic economic
policy. They spent (and continue to spend)
millions of dollars on academic institutions and pedagogy.
Joan Roelofs in her wonderful book Foundations
and Public Policy: The Mask of Pluralism
describes how foundations remodelled the old
ideas of how to teach political science, and
fashioned the disciplines of international and
area studies. This provided the US intelligence
and security services a pool of expertise in
foreign languages and culture to recruit from.
The CIA and US state department continue to work
with students and professors in US universities,
raising serious questions about the ethics of scholarship.
The gathering of information to control people
they rule is fundamental to any ruling power. As
resistance to land acquisition and the new
economic policies spreads across India, in the
shadow of outright war in Central India, as a
containment technique, the government has
embarked on a massive biometrics programme,
perhaps one of the most ambitious and expensive
information-gathering projects in the world the
Unique Identification Number (UID). People dont
have clean drinking water, or toilets, or food,
or money, but they will have election cards and
UID numbers. Is it a coincidence that the UID
project run by Nandan Nilekani, former CEO of
Infosys, ostensibly meant to deliver services to
the poor, will inject massive amounts of money
into a slightly beleaguered IT industry? (A
conservative estimate of the UID budget exceeds
the Indian governments annual public spending on
education.) To digitise a country with such a
large population of the largely illegitimate and
illegiblepeople who are for the most part
slum-dwellers, hawkers, adivasis without land
recordswill criminalise them, turning them from
illegitimate to illegal. The idea is to pull off
a digital version of the Enclosure of the Commons
and put huge powers into the hands of an
increasingly hardening police state. Nilekanis
technocratic obsession with gathering data is
consistent with Bill Gatess obsession with
digital databases, numerical targets,
scorecards of progress. As though it is a lack
of information that is the cause of world hunger,
and not colonialism, debt and skewed profit-oriented, corporate policy.
Corporate-endowed foundations are the biggest
funders of the social sciences and the arts,
endowing courses and student scholarships in
development studies, community studies,
cultural studies, behavioural sciences and
human rights. As US universities opened their
doors to international students, hundreds of
thousands of students, children of the Third
World elite, poured in. Those who could not
afford the fees were given scholarships. Today in
countries like India and Pakistan there is
scarcely a family among the upper middle classes
that does not have a child that has studied in
the US. From their ranks have come good scholars
and academics, but also the prime ministers,
finance ministers, economists, corporate lawyers,
bankers and bureaucrats who helped to open up the
economies of their countries to global corporations.
Scholars of the Foundation-friendly version of
economics and political science were rewarded
with fellowships, research funds, grants,
endowments and jobs. Those with
Foundation-unfriendly views found themselves
unfunded, marginalised and ghettoised, their
courses discontinued. Gradually, one particular
imaginationa brittle, superficial pretence of
tolerance and multiculturalism (that morphs into
racism, rabid nationalism, ethnic chauvinism or
war-mongering Islamophobia at a moments notice)
under the roof of a single, overarching, very
unplural economic ideologybegan to dominate the
discourse. It did so to such an extent that it
ceased to be perceived as an ideology at all. It
became the default position, the natural way to
be. It infiltrated normality, colonised
ordinariness, and challenging it began to seem as
absurd or as esoteric as challenging reality
itself. From here it was a quick easy step to There is No Alternative.
It is only now, thanks to the Occupy Movement,
that another language has appeared on US streets
and campuses. To see students with banners that
say Class War or We dont mind you being rich,
but we mind you buying our government is, given
the odds, almost a revolution in itself.
One century after it began, corporate
philanthropy is as much part of our lives as Coca
Cola. There are now millions of non-profit
organisations, many of them connected through a
byzantine financial maze to the larger
foundations. Between them, this independent
sector has assets worth nearly 450 billion
dollars. The largest of them is the Bill Gates
Foundation with ($21 billion), followed by the
Lilly Endowment ($16 billion) and the Ford Foundation ($15 billion).
As the IMF enforced Structural Adjustment, and
arm-twisted governments into cutting back on
public spending on health, education, childcare,
development, the NGOs moved in. The Privatisation
of Everything has also meant the NGO-isation of
Everything. As jobs and livelihoods disappeared,
NGOs have become an important source of
employment, even for those who see them for what
they are. And they are certainly not all bad. Of
the millions of NGOs, some do remarkable, radical
work and it would be a travesty to tar all NGOs
with the same brush. However, the corporate or
Foundation-endowed NGOs are global finances way
of buying into resistance movements, literally
like shareholders buy shares in companies, and
then try to control them from within. They sit
like nodes on the central nervous system, the
pathways along which global finance flows. They
work like transmitters, receivers, shock
absorbers, alert to every impulse, careful never
to annoy the governments of their host countries.
(The Ford Foundation requires the organisations
it funds to sign a pledge to this effect.)
Inadvertently (and sometimes advertently), they
serve as listening posts, their reports and
workshops and other missionary activity feeding
data into an increasingly aggressive system of
surveillance of increasingly hardening States.
The more troubled an area, the greater the numbers of NGOs in it.
Mischievously, when the government or sections of
the Corporate Press want to run a smear campaign
against a genuine peoples movement, like the
Narmada Bachao Andolan, or the protest against
the Koodankulam nuclear reactor, they accuse
these movements of being NGOs receiving foreign
funding. They know very well that the mandate of
most NGOs, in particular the well-funded ones, is
to further the project of corporate globalisation, not thwart it.
Armed with their billions, these NGOs have waded
into the world, turning potential revolutionaries
into salaried activists, funding artists,
intellectuals and filmmakers, gently luring them
away from radical confrontation, ushering them in
the direction of multi-culturalism, gender,
community developmentthe discourse couched in
the language of identity politics and human rights.
The transformation of the idea of justice into
the industry of human rights has been a
conceptual coup in which NGOs and foundations
have played a crucial part. The narrow focus of
human rights enables an atrocity-based analysis
in which the larger picture can be blocked out
and both parties in a conflictsay, for example,
the Maoists and the Indian government, or the
Israeli Army and Hamascan both be admonished as
Human Rights Violators. The land-grab by mining
corporations or the history of the annexation of
Palestinian land by the State of Israel then
become footnotes with very little bearing on the
discourse. This is not to suggest that human
rights dont matter. They do, but they are not a
good enough prism through which to view or
remotely understand the great injustices in the world we live in.
Another conceptual coup has to do with
foundations involvement with the feminist
movement. Why do most official feminists and
womens organisations in India keep a safe
distance between themselves and organisations
like say the 90,000-member Krantikari Adivasi
Mahila Sangathan (Revolutionary Adivasi Womens
Association) fighting patriarchy in their own
communities and displacement by mining
corporations in the Dandakaranya forest? Why is
it that the dispossession and eviction of
millions of women from land which they owned and
worked is not seen as a feminist problem?
The hiving off of the liberal feminist movement
from grassroots anti-imperialist and
anti-capitalist peoples movements did not begin
with the evil designs of foundations. It began
with those movements inability to adapt and
accommodate the rapid radicalisation of women
that took place in the 60s and 70s. The
foundations showed genius in recognising and
moving in to support and fund womens growing
impatience with the violence and patriarchy in
their traditional societies as well as among even
the supposedly progressive leaders of Left
movements. In a country like India, the schism
also ran along the rural-urban divide. Most
radical, anti-capitalist movements were located
in the countryside where, for the most part,
patriarchy continued to rule the lives of most
women. Urban women activists who joined these
movements (like the Naxalite movement) had been
influenced and inspired by the western feminist
movement and their own journeys towards
liberation were often at odds with what their
male leaders considered to be their duty: to fit
in with the masses. Many women activists were
not willing to wait any longer for the
revolution in order to end the daily oppression
and discrimination in their lives, including from
their own comrades. They wanted gender equality
to be an absolute, urgent and non-negotiable part
of the revolutionary process and not just a
post-revolution promise. Intelligent, angry and
disillusioned women began to move away and look
for other means of support and sustenance. As a
result, by the late 80s, around the time Indian
markets were opened up, the liberal feminist
movement in a country like India has become
inordinately NGO-ised. Many of these NGOs have
done seminal work on queer rights, domestic
violence, AIDS and the rights of sex workers. But
significantly, the liberal feminist movements
have not been at the forefront of challenging the
new economic policies, even though women have
been the greatest sufferers. By manipulating the
disbursement of the funds, the foundations have
largely succeeded in circumscribing the range of
what political activity should be. The funding
briefs of NGOs now prescribe what counts as womens issues and what doesnt.
The NGO-isation of the womens movement has also
made western liberal feminism (by virtue of its
being the most funded brand) the standard-bearer
of what constitutes feminism. The battles, as
usual, have been played out on womens bodies,
extruding Botox at one end and burqas at the
other. (And then there are those who suffer the
double whammy, Botox and the Burqa.) When, as
happened recently in France, an attempt is made
to coerce women out of the burqa rather than
creating a situation in which a woman can choose
what she wishes to do, its not about liberating
her, but about unclothing her. It becomes an act
of humiliation and cultural imperialism. Its not
about the burqa. Its about the coercion.
Coercing a woman out of a burqa is as bad as
coercing her into one. Viewing gender in this
way, shorn of social, political and economic
context, makes it an issue of identity, a battle
of props and costumes. It is what allowed the US
government to use western feminist groups as
moral cover when it invaded Afghanistan in 2001.
Afghan women were (and are) in terrible trouble
under the Taliban. But dropping daisy-cutters on
them was not going to solve their problems.
In the NGO universe, which has evolved a strange
anodyne language of its own, everything has
become a subject, a separate, professionalised,
special-interest issue. Community development,
leadership development, human rights, health,
education, reproductive rights, AIDS, orphans
with AIDShave all been hermetically sealed into
their own silos with their own elaborate and
precise funding brief. Funding has fragmented
solidarity in ways that repression never could.
Poverty too, like feminism, is often framed as an
identity problem. As though the poor have not
been created by injustice but are a lost tribe
who just happen to exist, and can be rescued in
the short term by a system of grievance redressal
(administered by NGOs on an individual, person to
person basis), and whose long-term resurrection
will come from Good Governance. Under the regime
of Global Corporate Capitalism, it goes without saying.
Indian poverty, after a brief period in the
wilderness while India shone, has made a
comeback as an exotic identity in the Arts, led
from the front by films like Slumdog Millionaire.
These stories about the poor, their amazing
spirit and resilience, have no villainsexcept
the small ones who provide narrative tension and
local colour. The authors of these works are the
contemporary worlds equivalent of the early
anthropologists, lauded and honoured for working
on the ground, for their brave journeys into
the unknown. You rarely see the rich being examined in these ways.
Having worked out how to manage governments,
political parties, elections, courts, the media
and liberal opinion, there was one more challenge
for the neo-liberal establishment: how to deal
with growing unrest, the threat of peoples
power. How do you domesticate it? How do you
turn protesters into pets? How do you vacuum up
peoples fury and redirect it into blind alleys?
Here too, foundations and their allied
organisations have a long and illustrious
history. A revealing example is their role in
defusing and deradicalising the Black Civil
Rights movement in the US in the 1960s and the
successful transformation of Black Power into Black Capitalism.
The Rockefeller Foundation, in keeping with J.D.
Rockefellers ideals, had worked closely with
Martin Luther King Sr (father of Martin Luther
King Jr). But his influence waned with the rise
of the more militant organisationsthe Student
Non-violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and the
Black Panthers. The Ford and Rockefeller
Foundations moved in. In 1970, they donated $15
million to moderate black organisations, giving
people grants, fellowships, scholarships, job
training programmes for dropouts and seed money
for black-owned businesses. Repression,
infighting and the honey trap of funding led to
the gradual atrophying of the radical black organisations.
Martin Luther King Jr made the forbidden
connections between Capitalism, Imperialism,
Racism and the Vietnam War. As a result, after he
was assassinated, even his memory became a toxic
threat to public order. Foundations and
Corporations worked hard to remodel his legacy to
fit a market-friendly format. The Martin Luther
King Junior Centre for Non-Violent Social Change,
with an operational grant of $2 million, was set
up by, among others, the Ford Motor Company,
General Motors, Mobil, Western Electric, Procter
& Gamble, US Steel and Monsanto. The Center
maintains the King Library and Archives of the
Civil Rights Movement. Among the many programmes
the King Center runs have been projects that
work closely with the United States Department
of Defense, the Armed Forces Chaplains Board and
others. It co-sponsored the Martin Luther King
Jr Lecture Series called The Free Enterprise
System: An Agent for Non-violent Social Change. Amen.
A similar coup was carried out in the
anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa. In 1978,
the Rockefeller Foundation organised a Study
Commission on US Policy toward Southern Africa.
The report warned of the growing influence of the
Soviet Union on the African National Congress
(ANC) and said that US strategic and corporate
interests (i.e., access to South Africas
minerals) would be best served if there were
genuine sharing of political power by all races.
The foundations began to support the ANC. The ANC
soon turned on the more radical organisations
like Steve Bikos Black Consciousness movement
and more or less eliminated them. When Nelson
Mandela took over as South Africas first Black
President, he was canonised as a living saint,
not just because he was a freedom fighter who
spent 27 years in prison, but also because he
deferred completely to the Washington Consensus.
Socialism disappeared from the ANCs agenda.
South Africas great peaceful transition, so
praised and lauded, meant no land reforms, no
demands for reparation, no nationalisation of
South Africas mines. Instead, there was
Privatisation and Structural Adjustment. Mandela
gave South Africas highest civilian awardthe
Order of Good Hopeto his old supporter and
friend General Suharto, the killer of Communists
in Indonesia. Today, in South Africa, a clutch of
Mercedes-driving former radicals and trade
unionists rule the country. But that is more than
enough to perpetuate the illusion of Black Liberation.
The rise of Black Power in the US was an
inspirational moment for the rise of a radical,
progressive Dalit movement in India, with
organisations like the Dalit Panthers mirroring
the militant politics of the Black Panthers. But
Dalit Power too, in not exactly the same but
similar ways, has been fractured and defused and,
with plenty of help from right-wing Hindu
organisations and the Ford Foundation, is well on
its way to transforming into Dalit Capitalism.
Dalit Inc ready to show business can beat
caste, the Indian Express reported in December
last year. It went on to quote a mentor of the
Dalit Indian Chamber of Commerce & Industry
(DICCI). Getting the prime minister for a Dalit
gathering is not difficult in our society. But
for Dalit entrepreneurs, taking a photograph with
Tata and Godrej over lunch and tea is an
aspirationand proof that they have arrived, he
said. Given the situation in modern India, it
would be casteist and reactionary to say that
Dalit entrepreneurs oughtnt to have a place at
the high table. But if this is to be the
aspiration, the ideological framework of Dalit
politics, it would be a great pity. And unlikely
to help the one million Dalits who still earn a
living off manual scavengingcarrying human shit on their heads.
Young Dalit scholars who accept grants from the
Ford Foundation cannot be too harshly judged. Who
else is offering them an opportunity to climb out
of the cesspit of the Indian caste system? The
shame as well as a large part of the blame for
this turn of events also goes to Indias
Communist movement whose leaders continue to be
predominantly upper caste. For years it has tried
to force-fit the idea of caste into Marxist class
analysis. It has failed miserably, in theory as
well as practice. The rift between the Dalit
community and the Left began with a falling out
between the visionary Dalit leader Dr Bhimrao
Ambedkar and S.A. Dange, trade unionist and
founding member of the Communist Party of India.
Dr Ambedkars disillusionment with the Communist
Party began with the textile workers strike in
Mumbai in 1928 when he realised that despite all
the rhetoric about working class solidarity, the
party did not find it objectionable that the
untouchables were kept out of the weaving
department (and only qualified for the lower paid
spinning department) because the work involved
the use of saliva on the threads, which other castes considered polluting.
Ambedkar realised that in a society where the
Hindu scriptures institutionalise untouchability
and inequality, the battle for untouchables,
for social and civic rights, was too urgent to
wait for the promised Communist revolution. The
rift between the Ambedkarites and the Left has
come at a great cost to both. It has meant that a
great majority of the Dalit population, the
backbone of the Indian working class, has pinned
its hopes for deliverance and dignity to
constitutionalism, to capitalism and to political
parties like the BSP, which practise an
important, but in the long run, stagnant brand of identity politics.
In the United States, as we have seen,
corporate-endowed foundations spawned the culture
of NGOs. In India, targeted corporate
philanthropy began in earnest in the 1990s, the
era of the New Economic Policies. Membership to
the Star Chamber doesnt come cheap. The Tata
Group donated $50 million to that needy
institution, the Harvard Business School, and
another $50 million to Cornell University. Nandan
Nilekani of Infosys and his wife Rohini donated
$5 million as a start-up endowment for the India
Initiative at Yale. The Harvard Humanities Centre
is now the Mahindra Humanities Centre after it
received its largest-ever donation of $10 million
from Anand Mahindra of the Mahindra Group.
At home, the Jindal Group, with a major stake in
mining, metals and power, runs the Jindal Global
Law School and will soon open the Jindal School
of Government and Public Policy. (The Ford
Foundation runs a law school in the Congo.) The
New India Foundation funded by Nandan Nilekani,
financed by profits from Infosys, gives prizes
and fellowships to social scientists. The Sitaram
Jindal Foundation endowed by Jindal Aluminium has
announced five cash prizes of Rs 1 crore each to
be given to those working in rural development,
poverty alleviation, environment education and
moral upliftment. The Reliance Groups Observer
Research Foundation (ORF), currently endowed by
Mukesh Ambani, is cast in the mould of the
Rockefeller Foundation. It has retired
intelligence agents, strategic analysts,
politicians (who pretend to rail against each
other in Parliament), journalists and
policymakers as its research fellows and advisors.
ORFs objectives seem straightforward enough: To
help develop a consensus in favour of economic
reforms. And to shape and influence public
opinion, creating viable, alternative policy
options in areas as divergent as employment
generation in backward districts and real-time
strategies to counter nuclear, biological and chemical threats.
I was initially puzzled by the preoccupation with
nuclear, biological and chemical war in ORFs
stated objectives. But less so when, in the long
list of its institutional partners, I found the
names of Raytheon and Lockheed Martin, two of the
worlds leading weapons manufacturers. In 2007,
Raytheon announced it was turning its attention
to India. Could it be that at least part of
Indias $32 billion defence budget will be spent
on weapons, guided missiles, aircraft, warships
and surveillance equipment made by Raytheon and Lockheed Martin?
Do we need weapons to fight wars? Or do we need
wars to create a market for weapons? After all,
the economies of Europe, US and Israel depend
hugely on their weapons industry. Its the one
thing they havent outsourced to China.
In the new Cold War between US and China, India
is being groomed to play the role Pakistan played
as a US ally in the cold war with Russia. (And
look what happened to Pakistan.) Many of those
columnists and strategic analysts who are
playing up the hostilities between India and
China, youll see, can be traced back directly or
indirectly to the Indo-American think-tanks and
foundations. Being a strategic partner of the
US does not mean that the Heads of State make
friendly phone calls to each other every now and
then. It means collaboration (interference) at
every level. It means hosting US Special Forces
on Indian soil (a Pentagon Commander recently
confirmed this to the BBC). It means sharing
intelligence, altering agriculture and energy
policies, opening up the health and education
sectors to global investment. It means opening up
retail. It means an unequal partnership in which
India is being held close in a bear hug and
waltzed around the floor by a partner who will
incinerate her the moment she refuses to dance.
In the list of ORFs institutional partners,
you will also find the RAND Corporation, Ford
Foundation, the World Bank, the Brookings
Institution (whose stated mission is to provide
innovative and practical recommendations that
advance three broad goals: to strengthen American
democracy; to foster the economic and social
welfare, security and opportunity of all
Americans; and to secure a more open, safe,
prosperous and cooperative international
system.) You will also find the Rosa Luxemburg
Foundation of Germany. (Poor Rosa, who died for
the cause of Communism, to find her name on a list such as this one!)
Though capitalism is meant to be based on
competition, those at the top of the food chain
have also shown themselves to be capable of
inclusiveness and solidarity. The great Western
Capitalists have done business with fascists,
socialists, despots and military dictators. They
can adapt and constantly innovate. They are
capable of quick thinking and immense tactical cunning.
But despite having successfully powered through
economic reforms, despite having waged wars and
militarily occupied countries in order to put in
place free market democracies, Capitalism is
going through a crisis whose gravity has not
revealed itself completely yet. Marx said, What
the bourgeoisie therefore produces, above all,
are its own grave-diggers. Its fall and the
victory of the proletariat are equally inevitable.
The proletariat, as Marx saw it, has been under
continuous assault. Factories have shut down,
jobs have disappeared, trade unions have been
disbanded. The proletariat has, over the years,
been pitted against each other in every possible
way. In India, it has been Hindu against Muslim,
Hindu against Christian, Dalit against Adivasi,
caste against caste, region against region. And
yet, all over the world, it is fighting back. In
China, there are countless strikes and uprisings.
In India, the poorest people in the world have
fought back to stop some of the richest corporations in their tracks.
Capitalism is in crisis. Trickledown failed. Now
Gush-Up is in trouble too. The international
financial meltdown is closing in. Indias growth
rate has plummeted to 6.9 per cent. Foreign
investment is pulling out. Major international
corporations are sitting on huge piles of money,
not sure where to invest it, not sure how the
financial crisis will play out. This is a major,
structural crack in the juggernaut of global capital.
Capitalisms real grave-diggers may end up
being its own delusional Cardinals, who have
turned ideology into faith. Despite their
strategic brilliance, they seem to have trouble
grasping a simple fact: Capitalism is destroying
the planet. The two old tricks that dug it out of
past crisesWar and Shoppingsimply will not work.
I stood outside Antilla for a long time watching
the sun go down. I imagined that the tower was as
deep as it was high. That it had a
twenty-seven-storey-long tap root, snaking around
below the ground, hungrily sucking sustenance out
of the earth, turning it into smoke and gold.
Why did the Ambanis choose to call their
building Antilla? Antilla is the name of a set of
mythical islands whose story dates back to an
8th-century Iberian legend. When the Muslims
conquered Hispania, six Christian Visigothic
bishops and their parishioners boarded ships and
fled. After days, or maybe weeks at sea, they
arrived at the isles of Antilla where they
decided to settle and raise a new civilisation.
They burnt their boats to permanently sever their
links to their barbarian-dominated homeland.
By calling their tower Antilla, do the Ambanis
hope to sever their links to the poverty and
squalor of their homeland and raise a new
civilisation? Is this the final act of the most
successful secessionist movement in India? The
secession of the middle and upper classes into outer space?
As night fell over Mumbai, guards in crisp linen
shirts with crackling walkie-talkies appeared
outside the forbidding gates of Antilla. The
lights blazed on, to scare away the ghosts
perhaps. The neighbours complain that Antillas
bright lights have stolen the night.
Perhaps its time for us to take back the night.
Arundhati Roy is an Indian novelist and political
activist. She won the Booker Prize in 1997 for
her novel, The God of Small Things
Freedom Archives
522 Valencia Street
San Francisco, CA 94110
415 863-9977
www.Freedomarchives.org
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