Aparita

The Toronto Star

Dalit leader hopes to be politically `untouchable.’ Her UP supporters call her ‘daughter of the land.’

APARITA BHANDARI

SPECIAL TO THE STAR

It’s all high drama and low politics when it comes to the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh.

And standing at its helm is Mayawati, chief minister of the state known as UP and a woman whose single name has become synonymous with controversy.

“I’m not one of those chief ministers who come and just make announcements,” Mayawati told a gathering of select Indo-Canadians at an Indian restaurant in Markham during a recent visit to promote investment opportunities in UP.

“I repeat. I’m not an announcements minister. I do what I say.”

It’s a tone expected of her - immensely confident, just shy of arrogant.

Then again, Mayawati does rule over India’s largest state, with a population of nearly 170 million people. She’s also the first Dalit chief minister to head a state government.

Dalit refers to a community of the downtrodden on the lowest rung of the caste hierarchy of the Hindus. Formerly known as “untouchables,” they’re also referred to as the “scheduled caste.”

Mayawati made history in 1995, not only because she was a Dalit but also because, at age 39, she was the youngest politician ever to be elected chief minister.

That leadership stint lasted only four months, but she returned in 1997 for a term that lasted six months.

After assembly elections in February, 2002, she was back on top as her Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) formed a state coalition government with the Hindu nationalist Bhartiya Janata Party, which also leads India’s coalition national government.

Mayawati’s political career began in 1977, when she was recruited by BSP founder Kanshi Ram.
One of nine siblings, she earned two graduate degrees and was planning a career in the Indian bureaucracy when Ram heard her speak at a national debate competition and convinced her to take a shot at politics.

In her debate performance, Mayawati had argued Gandhi’s use of the word harijan (God’s children) was demeaning to Dalits.

It’s a viewpoint to which she still adheres.

“All I said was that, when the constitution has ascribed the name `scheduled caste’ and `scheduled tribe’ to our people, Gandhi wasn’t doing us a favour by calling us God’s children,” she explains in Hindi while taking a breather at a downtown Toronto hotel.

“We’re not orphans. And if we are God’s children, who are the others? Devil’s children?”

It’s the sort of rhetoric that draws cheers from her Dalit supporters, who form one-quarter of the population of UP, as well as from other social and religious minorities in India.

Still, in the rough-and-tumble world of Indian politics, Mayawati says she’s being picked on because she’s a Dalit.

But such is her stronghold that her lavish 47th birthday party, thrown at the state’s expense in January, drew sharp criticism only from her critics.

“(Former Indian prime minister) Jawaharlal Nehru’s birthday is still celebrated as Children’s Day by the (national) government,” bristles Mayawati, who wore a diamond necklace worth about $1 million to the gala affair.

“Because he was from an upper-caste community, there was no problem. But when I, a schedule caste girl, the chief minister of India’s largest state, want to celebrate my birthday as Self-Respect Day, because I instilled self-respect in the lower-caste community, it becomes a problem.

“This is the caste-ism we are struggling against. It’s the upper-caste people and opposition party’s people who create these situations. When I respond to these allegations, my community gets even more self-confident. So, it works for me - my vote bank increases.”

Caste-based politics has become increasingly important in India and is being skilfully used by a new breed of politicians. Oxford-educated leaders who once formed political dynasties such as the Congress party have been replaced by leaders who speak the local lingo and propose to work for their “community’s interests.”

Although UP is one of the poorest Indian states and Mayawati’s critics point out she hasn’t addressed basic issues such as the primary education system, she maintains that UP’s flagging fortunes have turned around since she came to power.

“The law-and-order situation is completely under control,” she says. “We’ve allotted funds for the welfare of the lower castes and religious minorities. We constructed roads between villages, chose 13,000 villages and took care of their basic needs, such as water and electricity. We’ve distributed government land among the weaker section (of people) for agriculture.

“The state’s economic situation was bad before I came to power. In one year, my government has managed to collect record-breaking revenues. And it’s only when we get revenues that we can allot money for these policies.

And that, she stresses, is the reason for the 16-day junket that brought her to Toronto and other centres with strong expatriate Indian populations.

The “invest-in-UP” program seeks private investment from the non-resident Indian community, with the government playing a supervisory role.

The plan is representative of Mayawati’s political acumen.

Having constructed a highway and planning to build two international airports and embark on other major projects, she uses the mantra of “job creation” and a revitalized state economy that benefits all strata of society.

Add this mantra to Mayawati’s image as a “daughter of the land,” and you’ve got a vote-winning phenomenon, despite allegations that she’s a corrupt and cutthroat politician.

It’s also the reason for uneasy political marriages like the one partnering Mayawati’s BSP and the Hindu nationalist party.

Coalition-building might come into play again when India goes to general elections next year, but Mayawati says the trend won’t last long.

“Until now, the balance of power has been with the upper-caste parties, so we need to make alliances with them.

“But the common man has had a political and social awakening. They’ll vote for the parties who work for them. No one can stop us from forming a government in the centre.”

Toronto Star, [03/11/2003]

Once-sedate city changes with times

Special to the Star

NEW DELHI-Heading down to the hippest bar in the city has become something of a weekend ritual for Samir Sharma.

His current favourite is a bar called Ssteel, a recent addition to the Ashok Hotel, a government-run upscale hotel located in the posh enclaves of South Delhi, a part of New Delhi akin to neighbourhoods such Rosedale or Forest Hill in Toronto.

“I come here every Saturday, sometimes also on Wednesdays,” 28-year-old Sharma says as he signals the bartender to fix him another drink.

It’s barely 10 p.m. on a Saturday and Ssteel is already packed with patrons, mostly young professionals or college students, although an older clientele is also seen shooting the breeze in some corners. A haze of cigarette smoke builds as men and women light up, while sipping on a variety of alcohol.

Nearing daybreak, the bar pulsates with bass beats of music ranging from classic rock anthems by Bon Jovi and Queen, techno and house, R ‘n’ B tunes and Bollywood/U.K. Bhangra (folk music from the Indian state of Punjab with non-South Asian samples such as hip-hop beats usually produced by bhangra bands in the U.K.).

A bar culture in the conservative city of New Delhi, as opposed to the decades-old vibrant night life in the cosmopolitan cities of Mumbai and Bangalore, is a relatively new phenomenon.

While Mumbai and Bangalore have been famous for staying open all night, Delhi used to be known for shutting down by 10 p.m.

Just five years ago, Delhites were hard-pressed to find a place just to hang out, grab a drink, unwind and dance the night away. Clubs, in the form of “discotheques,” or “discs” for short, have existed in the city for several years.

But since they are mostly located in luxury hotels, cover charges cost a pretty paisa or two and a night out could leave your wallet substantially lighter.

Also, clubbing was considered not quite respectable. The thought of free-flowing drinks, men and women, enveloped in cigarette smoke, dancing away into the early morning hours, wasn’t palatable to the average Indian middle-class family.

Not so any more. A new generation of Indians has come of age.

This generation has been brought up on the mantra of free economy. They are, in a sense, Indian citizens with a global sensibility.

They enjoy a lifestyle in which offering prayers at the local place of worship in the morning segues neatly into bar hopping at night. They are as comfortable with the popular culture of the West received via satellite television as they are with the ever-evolving popular culture of South Asia.

They either work at call centres for multinational corporations, dialling up New York as often as they make a local call, or have friends who do the same. McDonald’s and Pizza Hut are as much a part of their diet as is tandoori chicken. Their wardrobe is a mix of Nike and Reebok as well as traditional Indian outfits such as kurta pyjama (long tunic with pants).

This new generation is indulging in its own version of perestroika in New Delhi: the “bring on the vodka” kind.

The launch party for Ssteel a few months ago, for example, was just another event in the city where bars seem to open every couple of weeks. It was another event swarmed by Delhi’s glitterati, made up of business tycoons, film stars, politicians, diplomats, artists and other celebrities. These “Page 3 People” regularly grace the society columns on the third page of the city supplements in Indian dailies.
But a bar in the Ashok Hotel, the flagship hotel in a chain run by the Indian Tourist Development Corporation, is also a sign of the changing times.

It was a makeover, if there ever was one.

A 2,500-square-foot bar was constructed replicating an old liquor warehouse, combining an industrial look with plush interiors.

Ssteel boasts vaulted ceilings, charred brick work, street floodlights, steel girders and columns, black unpolished stone flooring and leather tub couches.

Already a few months old, Ssteel seems to have captivated the imagination of regulars such as Sharma.

Sharma, who helps to manage the family business of aluminium foil products, says he’s not a barfly. He is, however, on a first-name basis with the bartenders and the management.
When Sharma asks the bartenders to top up his already stiff drinks, they oblige with a smile, also offering him first dibs on heady new experimental concoctions.

Bar outings in Delhi give Sharma a chance to catch up with his friends and relax after a busy work week.

“This is what we do when we meet each other,” says Sharma. “I have known some of my friends since I was in university, even high school. So, it’s like a reunion. Otherwise we hardly get to see each other.

“I’ve been partying since I was in university. Before bars started cropping up about two years ago, we used to have discs. You just went with a date or friends, danced and came back. But it was too loud. You couldn’t have a conversation. Now, I can just sit at a bar, enjoy a few drinks, meet some new people and catch up with old friends.”

It’s not unusual for Sharma to spend anywhere between 2,000 to 3,000 rupees ($80 to $100 Cdn.) on an average night in a bar. It’s a sum patrons such as Sharma, who comes from an upper middle-class family, can afford.

“Yeah, we’re rich kids, with richer fathers,” laughs Sharma.

Other bar patrons, such as recent graduate Sumona Roy, fund their lifestyle by working at one of the call centres that multinational corporations are opening in Indian cities.

Roy, who works at one of the many call centres operated by GE Capital Services India, started frequenting bars two years ago, and usually spends between 500 to 1,000 rupees per outing.
“It depends on the place you go to and what all you order,” says Roy, sipping on a tequila sunrise at Buzz, a bar in a shopping complex in Saket, another well-to-do Delhi neighbourhood.
“I like to try out different types of cocktails each time I go out.”

Since she lives with her parents, as is the norm with most young adults in India, especially single women, Roy can afford to “just let my hair down once a week or two.”

Her parents are liberal enough to let her go out when she wants, says Roy. Her girlfriends’ parents let go of their hang-ups about late nights after getting used to the shift work required at the call centres.

“But we always go in a group,” says Roy. “Most of us have boyfriends, anyway. There’s always some loser who tries to pick you up with some corny lines or passes you notes scribbled on a paper napkin. Plus there have some cases recently that make you put your guard up.”

Roy is referring to recent series of rape and other sexual assault cases in the city. Indian media such as the Hindustan Times had deemed New Delhi as “unsafe for women” when several rape cases were reported almost on a daily basis.

“But it’s not like it’s not safe to go partying,” Roy quickly adds.

The rise of bar culture in New Delhi can be seen as a new social ritual of the nouveau riche, says Ritu Birla, an assistant professor of history at the University of Toronto.

“It’s the same thing as the extravagance of an Indian wedding,” says Birla, whose academic interests also lie in consumption culture in contemporary South Asia. “Whether you are upper middle-class or middle-class or even an average Indian family, having a big Indian wedding is something that indicates or elevates your social status. So (for this generation of Indians) that social ritual has been replaced by frequenting bars.”

Besides providing the average Delhite a chance to rub shoulders with the rich and the famous, bars are also a place where some of the persisting social taboos are set aside for a few hours. In a society that still frowns upon public displays of affection, bars offer a space where sexuality is acknowledged in casual flirtation or in a mating dance.

But above all, patronizing bars has become a part of the Delhi lifestyle.

“A typical Saturday evening for me is like go to a bar, have food at a restaurant and then go for a coffee at a (luxury) hotel’s coffee shop or Barista (a chain of cafés),” says 27-year-old Subir Arora.

“Or it’s like: watch a movie, have dinner and then go to a bar for some after-dinner drinks.
“What else do you do on a Saturday night?”