The Kanhaiya connect

The way in which the JNU student leader Kanhaiya Kumar has managed to capture the imagination of Indians — you cannot open a TV channel, or a newspaper or any social media platform these days without being drawn into the whirlwind of the debate between his ardent fans and bitter opponents — is a narrative on the lack of role models in our country today. Particularly in the Opposition space.

But it is interesting to note that the idea, composition and cadences of Kanhaiya’s calls for azaadi from hunger, poverty, casteism, capitalism, are not really original. They first emanated from feminists in Pakistan, where women have fought bitter battles over long decades for the right to be treated with respect and equality.

On the eve of every International Women’s Day, thousands of older Pakistani women shudder to think of those 11 years of General Zia-ul-Haq’s reign (1977-88) during which the Hudood Ordinance, that made a mockery of gender rights were formulated.

For instance, under these draconian laws, in a court of law, two women’s testimony equalled a man’s, reducing a woman’s worth to half that of a man. And a raped woman was required under the law to produce four eye-witnesses to support her complaint! Failing this impossible feat, raped women could be, and were, thrown behind bars and tried for zina (adultery or extra marital sex), and the punishment included being whipped or stoned to death.

During these and the subsequent years, Pakistan’s women put up spirited fights for the right to education, to work and to be treated as equal beings.

In February 1983, streets of Lahore saw a demonstration by fiery women from the Women’s Action Forum and Pakistan Women Lawyers’ Association, which turned violent with the Lahore police using brutal force and thrashing the female protestors.

In the late 1990s, I remember interviewing a Pakistani minister, a lawyer by profession, who showed me scars from that march and saying: “I wear these scars as badges of honour!”

It didn’t take too long for these chants of azaadi to cross over the border and reach India. At women’s conferences in India, Kamla Bhasin, eminent social scientist, feminist and activist, adapted these slogans to demand freedom from all the constraints and shackles that bound Indian women. As she chanted, Meribehney mange, meribacchi mange, naarikanara, mazdoorkanaara, Dalitokanara, adivasiyokanara , and so on, the gathering robustly replied with “ Azaadi ”.

In an interview to a newspaper last week, Bhasin admitted that she had “learnt the slogan of “ Meri behney maange Azaadi ” from Pakistani feminists and later improvised the words. The words would change many times depending on what we were protesting against, discrimination on the basis of caste, injustice to tribals or violence against women.”

Listening to that video of Bhasin raising those slogans is both invigorating and liberating. She chants, “ Hinsa se lengeyazaadi, apmaan se lengeyazaadi, hum lekerahengeyazaadi . From patriarchy, from all hierarchy, from endless violence, from helpless silence, for walking freely, for talking freely, for dancing madly, for talking loudly.”

Other feminists in India too reiterate that these azaadi slogans have become an integral part of the feminist narrative in India. Only later, these were appropriated by the Left and others to demand different kinds of equity.

So down the years, have Indian women got these freedoms? The answer is both a ‘yes’ and a ‘no’, as the path to such freedoms is a long and tortuous one.

Returning to Kanhaiya, let’s examine why the questions and issues raised by him have captured our imagination and why he is being hailed as a young hero. After the doctored videos surfaced, it is evident that he neither raised slogans to cut up India into pieces or hailed the Parliament attack convicted Afzal Guru as a hero. He was kept in custody for 22 days, but the custody did not break his spirit.

So when after his release, Kanhaiya triumphantly addressed the JNU students, the entire national media was there to cover his address. Relating his jail experience, he took potshots at the ruling dispensation in very earthy Hindi with a strong Bihari flavour, packing it with doses of humour that singes — not of the Rahul Gandhi variety that trivialises even serious issues in Parliament — and fingers flew thick and fast on mobile phones alerting whatsap groups and social media platforms to watch the speech.

What was more, like a true politician or mass leader, he used his jail stint to pack his speech with peppy anecdotes, and pithy two liners such as “ Jail me jab takchanarahega/Aanajanabanarahenga (Till there is chana in jail, I’ll keep coming and going”.

It is this kind of intellect, packed with earthy humour, the common touch and the idealism of youth that has earned Kahaiya admiration. As also the sheer absence of a credible Opposition leader, a role thrust on its Vice President Rahul Gandhi by the Congress but without much impact. And what is the worth of a democracy without a decent, if not strong, opposition? Rahul’s interventions in Parliament, infrequent as they are, are as unimpressive as his attempts at humour.

But Kanhaiya’s limitation will be his Left ideology and identity. The Congress can enjoy the moment, but never hope to appropriate the present developments. For over its half century in power it has miserably failed to deliver on whatever freedoms Kanhaiya is asking for. And after the 2014 elections, the Left parties themselves have been reduced to a dismal position. They are out of power in both their bastions — West Bengal and Kerala.

And it is going to take much more than Lal Salaams to Kanhaiya to recapture that space.