Justice for all

A recent article in the New York Times about India’s Right to Information law made me incredibly happy, because the power of this law demonstrates how law can be used to empower poor and marginalized parts of the population.

Law is often vilified. By Americans, but also around the world. The common cartoon of a lawyer is this: a greedy corporate lawyer who preys on everyday citizens in order to get rich. The law is also the subject of much hatred; people feel like they are drowning in paperwork and penalized unnecessarily. But India’s right to information act is a testament to the fact that the law is not always bad - and that in fact, it can be a powerful force for good and for social change.

Because of this law, the Indian government is required to respond to requests for information from individuals from all classes and parts of society. Now, villagers can file requests to find out why they didn’t receive a grant they were eligible for, or why a road hasn’t been built in their town despite promises from the government. And often, it seems that the government doesn’t just respond to the request for information, but actually takes action to solve the problem. By filing a request, a villager can now get her grant or find that the long-promised road is finally being constructed in his community.

The NYT article argues that although the law is beginning to empower the poor to hold their government accountable, it isn’t especially effective in fighting corruption. While filing a request for information about a service that the government hasn’t delivered upon has caused the state to improve service delivery, it hasn’t truly addressed the root of the problem. Officials who steal or divert money from the state’s coffers into their own bank account, public servants who simply aren’t doing their job, and other government leaders are not being held accountable for their actions. Corruption continues because there are few consequences. The state is improving the provision of services, but hasn’t been able to reduce instances of corruption as they occur in the first place.

Ultimately, this law is a very promising first step, and seems to be a measure that can be implemented in other democratic developing countries (I say democratic because I suspect a large part of the law’s success in India is due to the thriving nature of the country’s democracy and the politically active populace, along with the government’s desire to actually serve its people - sadly absent in most dictatorships).

Yet, such right to information laws should be implemented alongside a strong focus on some punitive measures for corrupt officials - whether it is a large fine, removal from office, or even a term of imprisonment. Without consequences and the enforcement of such, corruption will continue to persist — but the ultimate sad irony is this: in a society where the state bureaucracy is known to be so corrupt, even enforcing the rule of law and clamping down on corruption becomes nearly impossible because of the inefficiencies endemic in the justice system as well. In such a climate of corruption, the implementation of the right to information law in India seems to be a triumph worth celebrating.

I wanted to briefly post these two talks, which I absolutely absolutely loved recently.

1. Shashi Tharoor, on India’s “soft power”

Click here to watch it (unfortunately TED won’t let me embed it for some strange reason).

Shashi Tharoor was elected to India’s parliament in May 2009, representing Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala as minister for external affairs. You can follow him on Twitter @shashitharoor - exciting if you’re a social media/politics nerd like me. In the past, Tharoor has worked with the UN as High Commissioner for Refugees, and on peacekeeping operations in the former Yugoslavia (he came in a close 2nd behind Ban Ki-Moon in nominations for Secretary General!). I think it’s immmensely exciting that people like him are entering the Indian political arena, and I’m looking forward to seeing how his career pans out.

This TED talk is funny yet eloquent and it really puts a new “face” to India: the country’s soft power. Indian culture - everything ranging from Bollywood and soap operas to it’s cuisine, yoga, tech and software genius, the magic of the “IITs” and ultimately, India’s democratic values and history of pluralism is what is defining the country around the world - not just it’s economic miracle, or it’s poverty.

2. Chimamanda Adichie, on the danger of a “single story.”

Adichie is a Nigerian novelist, and I really want to read her books at some point. To quote her profile:

In Nigeria, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novel Half of a Yellow Sun has helped inspire new, cross-generational communication about the Biafran war. In this and in her other works, she seeks to instill dignity into the finest details of each character, whether poor, middle class or rich, exposing along the way the deep scars of colonialism in the African landscape.

Adichie’s newest book, The Thing Around Your Neck, is a brilliant collection of stories about Nigerians struggling to cope with a corrupted context in their home country, and about the Nigerian immigrant experience.

This talk is absolutely brilliant, talking about how assuming a “single story” of Africa - that it is a continent of poverty, war, and disease full of people needing to be “saved” by the kind White man - is so misleading. True, there is poverty and war in Africa, but this is only part of the story; stereotypes are not necessarily wrong but they are incomplete. By getting to understand all the stories behind a country, a continent, or a people, we gain a true appreciation of them and acknowledge our common humanity. One of the most brilliant talks I’ve seen and I’ve totally quoted it in fellowship applications already… Enjoy!

A couple of days back, I was on a plane from London to the U.S. and I had the opportunity to sit back, relax, and watch movies. I ended up watching the Kiera Knightley flick, The Duchess - and I was definitely not expecting what I saw. If you haven’t seen the movie, it’s a tragic tale of Georgiana Spencer, who is married off to the Duke of Devonshire at age 17. Unfortunately, she soon realizes that her marriage will be loveless and that entire purpose of life is now to produce a male heir for her husband. She continues to disappoint the Duke on this end, provoking his anger and indifference over the years as she has two daughters. On top of this, her husband is not a man of faith, and he openly has affairs with countless women in their own house.

But she’s stuck in this loveless, painful, abusive relationship because of social convention and the constraints on women at the time. The double standard is stark - her husband is allowed to continue his unfaithful ways while she is required to pose as the picture perfect wife. People talk, they feel bad for her, but beneath all this, there is implicit societal acceptance of this double standard.

In much of North America and Europe the status quo has clearly changed since the 1700s. But the movie truly saddened me as I was reminded that my counterparts in much of the developing world are still stuck in lives governed by Victorian-era (or worse) social conventions. I’m from India, and I know that while the middle and upper classes there are becoming more liberal, the stigma of divorce is still unbearable. I’m not condoning divorce, but I am saying that in India - especially amongst the lower classes - this stigma coupled with arranged marriages, the practice of dowry, and the pressure to produce male children is still debilitating for many women. While women in the middle class are increasingly gaining employment and financial freedom, women in the lower class remain just as constrained as ever.

The situation seems to be similar in Pakistan, as an anecdote from a recent New York Times article alludes to. When Saima Muhammad, a woman living in the slums of Lahore, had two daughters, she experienced domestic violence and shame from even her close relatives:

“My husband beat me up. My brother-in-law beat me up. I had an awful life.” … Then when Saima’s second child was born and turned out to be a girl as well,her mother-in-law, a harsh, blunt woman named Sharifa Bibi, raised the stakes.

“She’s not going to have a son,” Sharifa told Saima’s husband, in front of her. “So you should marry again. Take a second wife.” Saima was shattered and ran off sobbing. Another wife would leave even less money to feed and educate the children. And Saima herself would be marginalized in the household, cast off like an old sock.

As you can see, the situation is desperate. I often regard myself as immensely lucky to have had the chance to grow up in the United States, where I have financial freedom and most of all - choice in how I lead my life. Many poor women in countries like India and Pakistan, among many others, are simply denied these choices. I could have just as easily been in their place.

The good news is that change seems to be abuzz in the air. Muhammad Yunus‘ groundbreaking Grameen Bank model focuses solely on women — and similar microcredit organizations are popping up everywhere, providing new hope for many women. Of course, microfinance has it’s critics and its effectiveness may not be known yet. It’s also not a panacea to all the world’s problems. But I still think it’s a good step in the right direction - ensuring financial independence for women. When women become the holders of the purse strings, they channel more of a family’s money towards the kids, and they gain bargaining power in the household. It’s common sense - but with microfinance, there’s a new way to concretely improve women’s financial freedom.

But beyond this, I think part of the next step is really reaching the next generation of men, and reaching them young. If we want to truly change the future, we have to create a society-wide shift in consciousness. We have to ensure that young children are taught to value their female counterparts, and that young men grow up with a different mindset than previous generations. We have to ensure that men themselves are strong proponents of women’s rights. My mother always tells me how her father, in the 1960s and 1970s in India, always insisted on his three daughters - along with his son - gaining the maximum education possible. Without my grandfather’s belief in his daughters, I certainly wouldn’t be where I am now.

A very good example of this is the project of Ashoka Fellow Magdy Aziz in Egypt. Aziz is working to promote gender equity in Egypt by teaching children about their rights and empowering them to exercise these rights. He is working to provide boys and girls avenues to freely express themselves while exploring gender-related themes in school. The program lays “the groundwork for long-term changes in social attitudes toward women inside and outside school walls.” By reaching kids when they are young and educating them in the language of tolerance, I really believe programs like this have the right vision for the future.

Strangely, even though this blog talks a lot about human rights, I haven’t once written about women’s rights or domestic violence issues. I guess it’s because I somehow feel like it’s already a movement in it’s own right, and I don’t need to bring attention it here. True, we have all heard of the issues. But just because there’s awareness does not mean there is sufficient effective action. There is ample room for innovation and change, but the best thing is - I think it’s happening right now, before our very eyes.

Photo credit: here

Recently, I’ve been reading a really great book — In Spite of the Gods: The Strange Rise of Modern India, by Edward Luce. I was born in India but moved to the U.S. at a young age - and yet, I recently felt that I didn’t know enough about my birthplace’s political scene. So I decided to pick up this book, and it has provided me with valuable insights into the country’s political and economic development since the time of Gandhi’s independence movement.

Strangely though - much of what it describes are things I’ve already known intuitively after my summer visits to the country. When you go to India, you see stark disparities. It’s a country of contradictions. You see bustling technological complexes and advanced software research coupled with beggars on the street, trash on the side of the road. It seems ridiculous that squalor can co-exist with incredible intelligence and innovation - India’s top government-funded colleges, like the IITs, churn out some of the world’s most intelligent minds. These men and women go on to become true leaders in science, technology, and business. And more recently, India has been achieving remarkable economic growth. From the 1980s to 2001, the percent of Indians living below the poverty line fell from 40% to about 26% - not an insignificant drop. The government clearly has more than enough money and resources to ensure basic living standards. The question is not one of its financial capacity. So why does a country that is a technological and intellectual leader, with a legacy of peace and a burgeoning economy - fail to meet so many of its’ citizens basic needs? The conditions seem ripe - yet the change isn’t coming fast enough.

To me, the biggest problem in India always struck me as corruption. Luce cites that an estimated 85% of all development spending is pocketed by bureaucrats. And in the state of Bihar, India’s second poorest, more than 80% of the food is “stolen” due to corruption. The state loses so much money in development and infrastructure projects that at the end of day, little actually gets done - even when it is done in the name of the poor. As more money comes in, officials are pocketing more while the poor are getting the same - or even less. I saw this with my own eyes in India. Bribes are a regular way of life, and often are necessary for daily activities to occur. People have accepted that corruption is ingrained into the country’s culture and politics. In the book, Luce writes how government jobs are coveted by so many in India. Working for the government means that one has generous “benefits” - and can make vast amounts of money on the side by taking bribes. This shocked me at the time, and saddens me now.

Secretary Clinton recently visited India, focusing on relations between the two countries and India’s leadership on environmental issues, defense, and nuclear energy. Yet, I believe that there are so many more underlying factors that she could have discussed. Corruption, economic development, inequality, discrimination - these are the issues that make daily life a challenge for the billion people in India. Why does the international community always look at India in terms of 1) it’s tenuous relationship with Pakistan, and 2) nuclear power? Sure, these issues are important, but they are not going to change the lives of the millions that live in poverty. I understand that Secretrary Clinton was there to focus on foreign policy. But like President Obama did in his Ghana speech, she could have done well to bring up issues like corruption.

India is also constantly praised for being a democracy. Yes, it’s a democracy, but one component of true democracy - I believe - is lack of corruption: transparency, accountability. Unfortunately, corruption is a daily reality for Indians, but international leaders rarely allude to it, instead willing to ignore the problem while covering it all up in the name of “democracy.” True, there are many wonderful aspects of Indian democracy which have endured to this day, such as Nehru’s intelligent legacies of secularism and equality under the law for all citizens (despite so many caste- and religion-based cleavages). Yet, there remains much to be desired. If corruption is implicitly accepted by Indians and passed over in international debates - how will things ever change?

(This is just a brief snapshot of one issue that matters to me. I strongly recommend the book, which also talks about caste politics, the legal system, and many other cultural and religious factors that impact India today.)